


(Do Not) Leave Quietly

by stayicy



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Action/Adventure, BAMF Nancy Wheeler, Good Babysitter Steve Harrington, Good Sibling Nancy Wheeler, High School, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Nancy Wheeler, Past Steve Harrington/Nancy Wheeler, Post-Season/Series 03, Teenage Drama
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2020-06-27 21:50:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 33,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19798471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stayicy/pseuds/stayicy
Summary: Nancy knows there was a time when she could’ve completed all of this, easily. It wouldn’t have even been an issue. But now, she feels like she’s struggling to stay afloat, and no matter how hard she treads, the waters will be too much and engulf her completely. She supposes, to go along with the metaphor, an option is to ask for help, which she could do if the local lifeguard hadn’t tried tohook up with her mother.~Or: Nancy and (a hopefully uneventful) senior year.Alternatively: Why can’t lab experiments and alien monsters juststay awayfor once?





	1. Chapter 1

Nancy used to look forward to the first day of school. The thrill of putting together a new outfit and being with her friends all day used to be more than enough to compensate for having to wake up half past six o’clock in the morning.

Now, though…she’s saved up all her money from working at the Hawkins Post over the summer or spent it on additional SAT prep, so she has no money to buy new clothes, and Barb is dead and Jonathan moved and Steve has graduated, so she doesn’t really have any friends, either.

She’s not really looking forward to the first day of school. In fact, she’s actually dreading it.

“Nancy, hurry the _fuck_ up! I need the bathroom! My hair looks like _shit!_ ”

At least Mike will be at the same school as her now.

Nancy twists open the bathroom door and glares at her younger brother. She’s started calling him her “younger” brother, not “little” anymore, because he’s four inches taller than her. She can still beat him downstairs when their mom makes dinner, though, so he’s not faster just yet.

“Literally none of your friends will care,” Nancy huffs, but still moving out of the way so he can enter.

“First impressions, Nancy,” Mike retorts, opening a drawer and pulling out a comb. “I already know my grades aren’t going to be as good as yours were your freshman year, so I have to look extra good to make up for all my teachers’ inevitable disappointment in me.”

Nancy rolls her eyes good-naturedly and looks at herself in the mirror one last time. She’s wearing a lavender blouse with frills across the shoulders that the guys at the Post had made fun of, her favorite ripped jeans, and white sneakers. Three years ago, her freshman self would have been horrified to even think about not wearing a skirt on the first day of school.

“You look fine, now get out,” Mike says, shoving her out the door and slamming it behind her.

“No slamming doors! You know the rules!” Their dad yells from downstairs. “If you break one, you’re paying for the repairs!”

Neither of them bother to answer. Nancy reaches into her room to grab her backpack and walks downstairs, ruffling Holly’s hair as she takes a seat beside her at the table.

“You excited for your first day of kindergarten?” Nancy asks.

Holly nods enthusiastically, syrup dribbling off her chin. She points to her floral skirt. “Mommy got me a new skirt! Becca and Lori and I are all going to wear skirts today. We all got in Ms. Decker’s class.”

“Pretty,” Nancy comments, not having the heart to tell her the skirt was hers, once, roughly thirteen years ago. “Do you want me and Mike to drop you off on our way to the high school, or are you going to brave the bus?”

“Bus!” Holly answers. She claps her hands. “Mikey from across the street and I are going to go together.”

Their mom enters the kitchen, applying lipstick. She glances around until she spots her tan heels on the floor near the sink. She scurries over and slips them on, pausing for a moment to kiss Holly on the forehead and squeeze Nancy’s shoulder, before she announces that she’s going to be late for work and leaves through the front door.

Mike stomps down the stairs, carrying his backpack, which he’s looking through frantically. Nancy raises her eyes in question.

“I borrowed Dustin’s Rubik’s Cube this weekend and told him I’d give it to him today at school but I can’t find it,” he explains, setting his backpack on the ground. He grabs a waffle from the plate on the table and chews thoughtfully. “Although Lucas was over yesterday, so maybe he took it and will give it to Dustin for me.”

“Or maybe your room is just so messy everything gets lost,” Nancy suggests. She stuffs the lunch she made the night before into her backpack and hands Holly one their mother had made her that morning. “Did you pack a lunch?”

“Lunch?” Mike asks, distracted. He blinks. “Oh, shit.”

“Bad word!” Holly gasps.

“I’ll just buy at school. I forgot Mom has to leave before we do now,” Mike sighs. “Or maybe I can ask her to buy me some McDonald’s and drop it off to school on her lunch break.”

“Don’t do that,” Nancy immediately chastises him, taking out her sandwich container back out of her backpack and tossing her sandwich at him. “Here, take this. Mom shouldn’t leave her job to bring you food because you were too irresponsible to pack your own lunch.”

Mike holds up the sandwich in thanks and grabs a container out of one of the kitchen cupboards to put it in. “Thanks. But you know, she has an hour for her lunch break. That’s more than enough time to drive to McDonald’s and the school and then back to the office.”

Nancy shakes her head, becoming frustrated. “Just…don’t ask her to do that, Mike. Okay?”

“Why not?”

Nancy pauses. How can she explain it to her brother? That their mother’s lunch break may be an hour, but she’ll probably spend the majority of it still doing work? That if she leaves the office, especially to run an errand on behalf of her _children_ , she’ll forever be seen as the woman who can’t work as well as the men? That she’s a mother first, and a worker second, and they’ll never take her seriously, no matter how good she is at her job?

Nancy shakes her head. She doesn’t have time for this. They need to leave for school.

“Bye, Holly,” she says, ruffling her sister’s hair. “Have a good first day! I want to hear all about it when I get home!”

Mike mimics her movements, making Holly groan that she’s going to have to redo her hair. The older Wheeler siblings both wish her luck again before leaving through the front door. They don’t bother saying goodbye to their father.

Once Nancy pulls into an open spot at the school, she turns the key and pulls it out of the ignition and looks seriously at Mike. “The last bell rings at three o’clock. If you’re not in this car by three-fifteen, I’m leaving without you, and you’re going to have to walk home or find another ride.”

“Okay, no problem,” Mike answers, but it’s obvious he’s not listening. He’s scanning the crowds of people milling around the parking lot and walking into the school. “Wow, there’s a lot of people. Do you see Dustin or Lucas anywhere?”

“Nope,” Nancy chirps, exiting the car. She slings her backpack over a shoulder. “Come on, homeroom starts in fifteen minutes. Do you know where your classroom is?”

“Second floor, right above the cafeteria,” Mike tells her confidently. Then he frowns. “Wait, that might be my first class, not homeroom. Shit. I need to check.” He sprints off toward the building, narrowly avoiding running into other students.

Nancy rolls her eyes and walks toward the building, suddenly feeling self-conscious. She’s never walked into school alone before on the first day. She’d always had Barb or another girl who met her outside, and last year, she’d had Steve.

She stops by her locker and deposits some notebooks into it. The inside of the locker door is uncharacteristically bare; she used to get a kick out of decorating it with stickers and Polaroid photos, but the only pictures she’d taken this past summer were of rats in Mrs. Driscoll’s basement.

Nancy heads to homeroom and selects a seat in the back row.

The first half of her morning goes by, fairly uneventful. In her AP classes, her teachers stress the importance of the SAT and college applications, which stresses Nancy out a bit since she hadn’t focused on either at all during the summer, but she figures she has time.

When the bell for lunch rings, Nancy doesn’t even bother stopping by her locker to drop off the books she’s done with and beelines straight for the cafeteria to get in line to buy lunch. Damn Mike for forgetting to pack lunch. And damn herself for being too nice and giving hers up.

Once she receives the glorious fine dining course of mystery meat and a lukewarm fruit cup, Nancy slowly walks through the cafeteria. She’s not sure if there’s anyone for her to sit with, so she figures she’ll just go to the library.

“Nancy! Come sit with us!”

A mix of relief and dread fill Nancy’s stomach as she turns to see who called her over: Caroline Ledford, one of the most popular girls in Nancy’s grade. Nancy had never had a problem with her in elementary and middle school; they’d pretty much just co-existed in the same space, but she figured she gained respect from Caroline and her friends when she began dating Steve and fell in with his group of friends.

“Oh. Um, are you sure?” Nancy asked, setting her tray down. “I was thinking about going to the library for lunch to study for the SAT some.”

“Of course, of course,” Caroline insists, flipping her hair. “It’s senior year! We should all mingle as much as possible to make our last year our best.”

Caroline also happened to be class president.

“Sounds good,” Nancy replies weakly, wondering if Caroline genuinely wanted to sit with her or if she’s some sort of social charity case. “So, how were your summers?”

She looks around the table. Two of Caroline’s close friends, Emilie and Madison, are sitting across from her, but other than that, Nancy doesn’t recognize the other girls.

“Oh, this is Kara, Kaleigh, and Trina,” Caroline says, gesturing to them. “Kara And Kaleigh are twins; they moved here this year and they do cheerleading with me, which is how I know them already.”

“Hi!” The girls say in unison. Nancy smiles at them in greeting.

“And this is Trina,” Caroline continues. Trina gives Nancy a friendly wave. “She lived in the county next to Hawkins, but moved into town this year so she had to transfer to our school.”

“How’re you liking Hawkins High so far?” Nancy asks her.

Trina rolls her eyes. “Honey, you should have _seen_ my school in the county. We were understaffed so often the science teachers would have to serve lunch sometimes and the math teachers would have to run PE. This is heaven compared to my old school, which is crazy since it’s just half an hour away.” She drums her brightly painted nails on the table. “Although with all that shit that went down this summer at y’all’s mall, there was a part of me that wished we hadn’t moved.”

“Oh _yeah_!” Caroline exclaims, grabbing Nancy’s arm. “Were you in town for the Fourth of July when all that happened?”

“Yeah, I was. We just stayed in Hawkins this summer,” Nancy answers, the hair on her neck standing up. She figured people at school would be talking about Starcourt, but she hadn’t known they’d be talking about it with her. “It was pretty insane. Jonathan and I were at the mall the day it got destroyed, actually. There were so many cops and security everywhere.”

“Oh, right,” Caroline drawls innocently, but Nancy has been around enough girls her whole life to know that Caroline intentionally forced the conversation to this topic. “You and Byers were, like, dating, right? And your little brothers have been best friends forever. I remember in third grade, I would always see their kindergarten class in the hall, and they would always be holding hands. So cute!”

“Um, yeah,” Nancy answers. “And Mike and Will are best friends. The Byers moved this summer, actually.”

“I heard about that,” Caroline replies, which Nancy knows translates to “My parents gossiped with other parents and found that out and told me.” “So, are you guys still dating?”

“Yeah,” Nancy says, fingering the necklace Jonathan had gotten her for her birthday.

“That’s so cute,” Kara or Kaleigh compliments. “Is he your first boyfriend?”

Before Nancy can answer, Emilie, another cheerleader, shakes her head and leans into the table, as if she has a juicy secret.

“Nancy used to date _Steve Harrington_ ,” she says. “You know, that guy with the hair who worked at the ice cream place at the mall?”

“Oh!” the other twin exclaims. She gives Nancy an approving nod. “You’re a lucky girl, Nancy.”

Nancy uncomfortably laughs. Fortunately, the conversation shifts to the upcoming homecoming dance, so she tunes out until the bell rings.

She has study block in the library next, and she checks in with the librarian before placing her things on a small table in the back of the library, blocked by the shelves. There are a few other students for study block in the library, but they all seem to be engrossed in their own work, so she contentedly sighs as she pulls out an SAT prep book she’d bought earlier in the summer. Finally, she can get some studying in.

After about half an hour, the fire alarm suddenly goes off. Nancy jumps in her seat and quickly shoves her book and papers into her backpack. All around her, the other students lazily stand up and stretch before meandering toward the exit of the library. Nancy is much quicker. After all the shit that’s happened to them in Hawkins, she knows that a seemingly innocent fire drill can actually mean something much more sinister.

The usual fire drill routine is for students on the first floor to exit the building and wait outside at the front of the school, just past the parking lot, while the students on the second floor exit the building from the back and wait behind the sports fields, right before the closest neighborhood. Nancy’s supposed to go to the front, but she knows that Mike has math after lunch and will be ushered toward the back.

She files in with the other students exiting the building. Everyone seems relatively calm, with the exception of some confused teachers, who keep telling their students there wasn’t a drill scheduled for today so to take themselves seriously.

“Nancy! Hey!”

Nancy turns and sighs with relief. “Thank God,” she mutters, bringing Dustin in for a quick hug. “Do you know what this is?”

“A...fire drill?” Dustin asks, looking around. “I mean, I’m not complaining. Anything to get me out of English is fine by me.”

“Are you sure?” Nancy asks, paranoid. “A bunch of the teachers are saying this wasn’t scheduled. And to have this many people, all in one place, out in the open–”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on,” Dustin says, furrowing his eyebrows. “You think this is...” He looks around and lowers his voice. “...the _Russians_?”

“I mean, I don’t know,” Nancy says defensively, feeling self-conscious. Isn’t she right to be a little paranoid of the situation? “It seems weird, doesn’t it?”

“I don’t know about this one,” Dustin says. “I mean, Will or El haven’t mentioned any weird feelings or happenings to us.”

Nancy sighs. “Okay. You’re right, I guess.” She shakes her head. Being comforted at school by a fourteen-year-old isn’t how she pictured her day going. “Well, other than this, how’s your first day of high school been?”

Dustin grins. “It’s been awesome! I have Mr. Payne for Chemistry, and he’s super awesome. He lit the floor on fire this morning!”

“I had Payne,” Nancy muses. “Wait, they let you take a sophomore class as a freshman?”

Dustin spreads his arms. “What can I say, being a genius gives you special privileges.” He turns to scan the crowd of students. “I should probably get back to my class before my teacher freaks out. I’ll see you later, Nancy!”

“See you,” Nancy calls.

She turns the other direction and runs to the front of the school before the librarian can realize she’s missing.

 _One day, Wheeler_ , she thinks to herself. _You’re going to get yourself into some serious trouble_.

~

Three-fifteen comes and goes, and not uncharacteristically, Mike fails to show up.

Annoyed, Nancy starts the car, backs out, and pulls out of the parking lot. She figures she’ll get in trouble with her mother if Mike says she didn’t give him a ride home, so she stops by the office her mother recently started working at as a secretary to leave a note on her desk.

Nancy discreetly enters the building and takes the stairs to her mother’s floor. Her mother is on her phone, back turned to Nancy.

“Jesus Christ, Ted, can you just let me explain?” Karen Wheeler huffs. “I didn’t cheat on you, for God’s sake. He simply put an _offer_ on the table, and I–” She pauses while Ted presumably argues something. “Oh, really? So if one of the little lifeguard girls offered to spend the night with you, you’d refuse?”

Nancy quickly sprints down the hallway to the stairwell and outside to her car. Once she shuts the door, she slaps a hand over her mouth in shock. Her parents had been fighting more than often recently, but it was because her mother almost _cheated_ on her father? And with a lifeguard?

Nancy racks her brain, trying to think of the male lifeguards at the local pool. Billy Hargrove used to work there, before he was killed, and a couple other guys from the grade above Nancy.

Either way, they were all Nancy’s age. Nowhere near her mother’s.

Nancy gags to herself and starts the car. She drives home and is surprised to see Steve’s BMW in her driveway, taking the spot where she usually parks her dad’s car.

Before she can make it to the front door, her dad is walking toward her, hand held out.

“Keys, please,” he demands, shaking his head. “I’m going to need the car back tomorrow. I had to get my coworker to drive me in today, and I thought I was going to die.”

“What? How are Mike and I supposed to get to school then?” Nancy cries, tossing him the keys and crossing her arms.

Her dad shrugs. “You have legs. Walk. Bike. Take the bus; that’s what it’s for!” He opens the car doors and slides into the front seat. “I’m off to run some errands and then get dinner with your mother once she gets off work. We have some...things to talk about. Can you just make dinner for your kids?”

“I guess,” Nancy grumbles as he drives away.

She enters her house. Immediately, she can hear the boys in the basement, blasting _Purple Rain_. She goes into the kitchen, where Holly is jumping around in her gymnastics leotard, a cup of grapes in her hand. 

“Hey Holly!” Nancy exclaims, wrapping her sister in a hug. “How was your first day of kindergarten?”

“Good,” Holly answers, popping another grape in her mouth. “Lorena’s mommy is picking me up for gymnastics soon!”

“Okay,” Nancy says, “it starts at...four-thirty, right? Do you need for me to pick you guys up?”

“No, Lorena’s mommy takes Tuesdays and Mommy takes Thursdays,” Holly answers. “How was your first day?”

“It was pretty good,” Nancy says, her stomach sinking remembering her mother’s phone conversation she’d overheard. “We had a fire drill at school.”

Holly stares up at her with wide eyes, amazed. Nancy ruffles her hair and goes upstairs to put her backpack in her room. She sits down at her desk to get a head start on her AP Government homework.

A few minutes later, she sees Lorena’s mom’s station wagon pull up in the front of their house. Holly skips out of the house and waves up at Nancy’s bedroom window, and Nancy waves back.

After finishing her homework packet, Nancy pads downstairs to start making dinner. She decides on shrimp and pasta with side salads, since that’s easy enough, and heads down to the basement to ask who’s staying for dinner.

“Hey guys, I’m making pasta with shrimp. Are any of y–” She halts halfway down the stairs, forgetting that Steve was over. It’s still weird to see her ex-boyfriend hanging out with her little brother. If they weren’t all bonded by almost dying from an otherworldly monster unleashed by the Russians, she’d probably even be angry about it.

“Anyone staying for dinner?” she continues, leaning against the railing.

“Thanks, but I have to get back before my dad gets off work,” Lucas answers. “My mom’s going to want to hear about my first day. And Erica’s.”

“Same,” Dustin says. “Except for the part about Erica’s first day. I don’t think she’d really care.”

Lucas rolls his eyes. “Well since she’s suddenly one of your best friends now, your mom might just care about her first day, too.”

“She is _not_ ,” Dustin says defensively. “We just needed her help to infiltrate the Russian spies at the mall. That’s all. You’re still my best friend.”

“Are you sure that spot isn’t taken by Suzie?” Max teases.

Immediately, she and Lucas lean in toward each other and begin bellowing, “Turn around. Look at what you seeeeeeeee!”

“I hate all of you,” Dustin deadpans. He stands up, grabs his backpack, and looks at Steve. “Can you give me a ride home?”

“Sure, dude,” Steve says, laughing along with the rest of the kids. His laughter falters when he makes eye contact with Nancy, making everyone else fall silent. “Oh. Uh, hey, Nance. How was your first day?”

“Good,” Nancy breathes, giving what she hopes is a normal-looking smile. “I got Mr. Sierra for English.”

“Oh, man, he was my favorite!” Steve gushes.

Nancy smiles genuinely. “I know.”

After a beat of awkward silence, Dustin pats Nancy’s shoulder. “Well, have fun making dinner, Nancy. Thanks for the offer. I’ll see the rest of you assholes tomorrow!”

Dustin and Steve ascend the stairs.

“Dinner sounds great, but my mom and stepdad will probably want me home for dinner,” Max tells Nancy, smiling. “Thanks, though.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Nancy says, turning to go back upstairs.

She’s barely started chopping carrots to put in the salads when the phone rings. Mike screams at her from the basement to pick it up.

“Wheeler residence, Nancy speaking,” she says into the phone.

“Hey, Nancy! It’s Roger,” a voice on the other end says.

“Oh, hey, Roger,” Nancy says, somewhat surprised. Roger Holden was Steve’s former friend Tommy’s younger brother in Nancy’s grade. Roger was much nicer than Tommy, but Nancy figured Tommy had talked enough shit about her and Steve to make Roger not want to associate with her. “What’s up?”

“This is sort of a weird question, but are you by chance applying to Notre Dame?”

Nancy’s slightly taken aback by the question. “Uh…I’m not sure yet, actually. I haven’t started on any applications yet. Why do you ask?”

“Oh, okay,” Roger says. “Nothing, I’m just a little confused by one of their personal essay questions, and I figured if anyone was applying there and had gotten started, it would be you.” He chuckles. “College applications are a bitch, huh?”

“Yeah, they’re tough,” Nancy replies distractedly, not pointing out that she’d literally just said she hadn’t started them yet. “Sorry I couldn’t be much help.”

“No problem,” Roger says easily. Nancy’s about to hang up the phone when Roger adds, “Oh, also, I’m having a sort of back-to-school party this Saturday night, if you want to come. I think some people from Tommy’s class are going to be going too, since it’ll also be like a farewell to last year’s seniors before they leave to go to college. If you want to come.”

“That sounds fun,” Nancy says, but she knows she probably won’t go. “Well, thanks for the invite. I’ll see you around, Roger.”

She hangs up before he can reply and runs a hand through her hair. If Roger Holden, the kid who once shotgunned a beer in the back of the classroom in Geometry freshman year, is already applying to colleges, then that means Nancy is even more behind than she thought. She looks down at the half-chopped carrot on the counter and decides she doesn’t have time to cook tonight. She decides to just buy something from McDonald’s for dinner and runs up to her bedroom to grab some cash before realizing it’s all in a jar she’d labeled “College.”

Nancy groans aloud in frustration. She knows there was a time when she could’ve completed all of this, easily. It wouldn’t have even been an issue. But now, she feels like she’s struggling to stay afloat, and no matter how hard she treads, the waters will be too much and engulf her completely. She supposes, to go along with the metaphor, an option is to ask for help, which she could do if the local lifeguard hadn’t tried to _hook up with her mother_.

That’s another issue in itself she has to figure out.

“Mike, do you have any money?” she calls down to the basement.

“Who the fuck do you think I am?” is the answer she gets, so she assumes that no, her brother doesn’t have any money.

Nancy manages to find a few crumpled bills around the house. The closest McDonald’s is just over a mile from her house, so she figures she’ll get some exercise and use Mike’s bike to get there. She has to lower the seat just to get her foot to reach the ground, but she manages.

When she arrives, she waits in the line and tries to remember what Holly likes. Eventually, she figures that four McNuggets will be good enough, and places her order. While she’s standing to the side to wait for her number to be called, she sees Mr. Payne, her old and Dustin’s current chemistry teacher.

“Hi, Nancy!” he says jovially. “How was your first day?”

“Pretty good,” Nancy answers. “And yours?”

“Oh, same old, same old,” Mr. Payne chuckles. “Only fifteen more until I can retire!”

Nancy smiles politely.

Mr. Payne gestures to the man sitting across from him. “And this is a new teacher at Hawkins, Mr. Brenner, also in the science department. He just moved here last month, so I’m showing him around, getting him acclimated to Hawkins.”

“Hi, nice to meet you,” Nancy says, sticking her hand out for the man to shake.

“Likewise,” Mr. Brenner replies, giving her a firm handshake.

“So, what brings you to Hawkins?” Nancy asks. She really doesn’t care at all, but her mother taught her nothing if not manners.

Mr. Brenner leans back in his chair. “Well, it’s not the nightlife, that’s for sure.” Nancy laughs uncomfortably with him before he continues. “My brother actually worked here a couple of years ago before moving away. He was into science, too, and didn’t hate it here, so when my tenure at Chicago was up, I figured I’d try life out here for awhile.”

“ _The_ University of Chicago?” Nancy asks, suddenly very interested. “You worked there?”

“I did,” Mr. Brenner chuckles. “I earned my Ph.D. there, so technically I’m Dr. Brenner, but that sounds too pretentious for me. It’s also what my brother goes by. But if you need any help with an application for Chicago, feel free to stop by my classroom sometime. That’s partly why I decided to start teaching. I’m on the second floor at Hawkins.”

“I just might, thank you,” Nancy tells him earnestly.

After getting her order, Nancy bikes home as fast as she can. She’s out of breath when she arrives home, and she knows her legs are going to be sore tomorrow, but she’s excited to speak with Mr. Brenner and actually get somewhere with planning her future.

When she enters the house, she sets out the food she’d bought on the kitchen table and calls for Mike and Holly to come eat. Holly bounds down the stairs, still in the gymnastics leotard, and begins babbling to Nancy about gymnastics practice.

Nancy nods along as her sister talks. When Mike comes up to eat, he raises an eyebrow at the grin on Nancy’s face. “What’s got you so pumped?”

“Something totally awesome,” Nancy sings. She launches into a story about meeting Mr. Brenner and how he offered to help her with her college applications.

Instead of being happy for her like she thought he would be, Mike’s face pales and he frowns. He tells Holly to go watch cartoons for a few minutes before he leans in close to Nancy and lowers his voice. “That’s all he said? Offered to help you with applications?”

“Well, yeah,” Nancy says defensively, put off by her brother’s negative reaction. “I was planning on going to his room during lunch tomorrow. Why?”

Mike chews on his bottom lip, crossing his arms. “Okay,” he mutters, thinking to himself. “Lucas and I can wait outside in case anything happens, and Dustin could ask Steve to drive him t—”

“Hold on, what exactly is your damage?” Nancy demands, picking up one of her nuggets and waving it at Mike. “I thought you’d be happy for me. I wasn’t able to work on any college stuff all summer because of all the stupid men at my awful job, and then the Mindflayer decided to attack Hawkins, and—”

“Okay, I’m sorry, I am happy you’re planning your future,” Mike interrupts, his face softening for a moment. “But…I don’t know if this particular plan of yours is going to work.”

“What? Why not?”

“It may just be coincidence,” Mike sighs, “but that rarely, if ever, happens for us. But don’t you remember?”

“Remember what?” Nancy presses, her stomach sinking.

“The man who gave El her powers and tried to hunt her down and kill all of us,” Mike says quietly, looking around as if someone is listening. “I think you may have just encountered his little brother.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nancy studies the homemade weapon in her lap silently. Does he really think she’ll need to fight Mr. Brenner? It’s only the second damn day of school. She should be thinking about the homecoming dance and back-to-school parties, not potentially fighting her college application mentor-turned-evil scientist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning: there is a _very brief_ panic attack in this chapter. I wrote it with as little detail as possible and it's super short, but just a warning for anyone that doesn't want to read it. It occurs when Mr. Brenner appears in the chapter.

If looks could kill, Ted Wheeler would be a dead man.

He shifts somewhat uncomfortably under his eldest daughter’s glare, but doesn’t stop reading the newspaper. “Nancy, sweetie, no matter how many curse words are running through your head right now, you’re not getting the car this morning.”

“That’s _so_ not fair!” Nancy groans, pushing aside her empty plate.

“Your mother and I have jobs, Nancy. That means we get first priority for the cars that _we_ are paying for. If you want to buy your own car, then by all means, go ahead.”

Nancy sighs. She decides to change the topic, since it’s obvious she’s not going to get her way with this one. “How was dinner with Mom last night?”

Her dad finally looks up from the paper to study Nancy curiously. “Fine. We went to Enzo’s. What did you kids end up having for dinner?”

Nancy rolls her eyes. Obviously, her parents are going to keep the whole potential cheating situation a secret for now.

Before she can answer her father’s question, the telephone rings.

Nancy’s dad walks over to the phone. “Wheeler’s. How can I help you this morning?” After a brief pause, he glances over at Nancy. “It’s Jonathan.”

“Stay on the phone! I’ll answer it in my room,” Nancy exclaims, suddenly giddy. She runs upstairs, taking two at a time, and quickly shuts her bedroom door behind her before picking up the extension in her room that had been her birthday present. “Okay, Dad, you can get off the phone now.”

“Alright.”

After the click indicating he was no longer on the call, Jonathan says, “I’m about to leave for Hawkins now. I think if I speed I can make it there in about four hours.”

Nancy furrows her eyebrows. “Wait, what?” she asks, confused. “Don’t you have work?”

“I do, but I think if my girlfriend is about to immerse herself into known enemy territory, that warrants me using one of my sick days,” Jonathan deadpans. “Nancy, why would you _willingly_ go to Dr. Brenner’s brother? And why didn’t you tell me about it? I had to find out from Lucas and Erica. They kept talking over each other. It took like ten minutes before I had any idea what they were saying.”

“I’m sorry, I meant to,” Nancy apologizes. “Last night was just kind of a mess. Mike called Dustin and Lucas over, and Erica came too, and it was past all of their curfews so we had to sneak them in through the basement, and I forgot I had some reading to do for E—”

“Nancy, it’s fine. I’m not mad, just worried,” Jonathan interrupts. “I’m about to leave now, though. Don’t meet this Brenner guy before I get there.”

“I love you, Jonathan, but you don’t need to come back to Hawkins just because you’re worried about me,” Nancy reassures her boyfriend over the phone. “I mean, getting out of this place was the sole reason your mom wanted to move.”

“If you think a crazy mad scientist is going to kidnap you, then that’s plenty reason for me to come back, Nancy,” Jonathan argues. “Besides, I never thought I’d say this, but I kind of miss Hawkins. I always thought I’d get more time there.”

“I _don’t_ think a crazy mad scientist is going to kidnap me,” Nancy sighs, rolling over on her bed. She stretches the phone cord as far as it can go in her new position. “Mike and Dustin and Lucas and Erica do, but they didn’t meet Mr. Brenner. He seemed really genuine, and it seemed like he and his brother aren’t that close. Besides, we’ll be in the school while hundreds of other people are there.”

Jonathan huffs audibly over the phone. “Alright, fine. I won’t drive back, but only because the boys are in the school there with you. Do you know if they told Will or El?”

Nancy shakes her head before remembering he can’t see her. “No,” she says. “I told them not to just yet. They have enough to worry about, with starting a new school next week.”

“That is one thing I don’t miss about Hawkins; school starts way later here,” Jonathan chuckles. “Well, let me know how it goes today. If you don’t call me by tomorrow morning I _will_ drive back.”

“You won’t need to,” Nancy sings. Her smile fades. “I really miss you, Jonathan.”

“I miss you too,” Jonathan whispers. “We’ll be back together before you know it, though.” Someone yells something in the background that Nancy can’t decipher. “Ah, shit, my mom’s late for work and can’t find her keys. I’ll talk to you later?”

“Of course,” Nancy answers. “Tell your family hi from me. I love you.”

“Love you more,” Jonathan says before hanging up the phone.

Nancy hangs up the phone and sighs. Everyone’s negative reactions toward meeting up with Mr. Brenner are making her second guess herself. But, she figures, if he’s innocent, then that’s someone to help her with college applications; and if he’s not, then they won’t be blindsided before an inevitable threat introduces itself.

She pads into the bathroom to brush her teeth. When she leaves the bathroom, she calls, “Mike! We have to go now if we want to catch the bus!”

Mike’s head pops out from his bedroom. “I guess you were too busy talking to your boyfriend, but the bus just passed. You missed it.”

“What? Shit!” Nancy cries. She runs to her bedroom window to see the middle and high school bus pulling out of their neighborhood, and her father pulling out of the driveway in the car. “How are you getting to school?”

“Dustin said he could pick me up,” Mike answers, exiting his room, unzipped backpack slung over one shoulder. “I’m sure his mom wouldn’t mind taking you, too.”

“Okay,” Nancy says reluctantly. She slips on her sneakers and follows her brother down the stairs and outside to wait for their ride.

A few minutes later, Nancy elbows Mike in the side. “You said his _mom_ was driving him today.”

“I never said that,” Mike immediately counters, holding his hands up innocently. “I mean, I assumed his mom was taking him, but he never explicitly said she was. He just told me “we can pick you up.” He never said who “we” was.”

The two siblings stare at Steve’s BMW stopped in front of their house. Dustin pokes his head out the window. “Are you two just going to stand there, or get in the car?”

Nancy reluctantly trudges behind Mike. He walks around to sit behind Steve, leaving Nancy to sit behind Dustin, in the seat with a broken seatbelt. Nancy remembers when Tommy H had snapped it in half while trying to buckle the seatbelt with their friend Alex’s car, but it had been too far and broke. Nancy wonders why Steve still hasn’t fixed it, but she doesn’t comment on it.

“Nancy, I’m glad you ended up riding with us,” Dustin rambles, unzipping his backpack. He fishes through it for a minute before triumphantly retrieving a metal contraption with a tiny lever with batteries on it. He tosses it behind himself into Nancy’s lap. “This is for you.”

“Um…thank you,” Nancy says slowly. She glances at Mike in question, but he shrugs, just as confused as she is. “What am I to do with this, exactly?”

Steve glances back at her to see what she’s talking about, and Dustin immediately slaps his cheek lightly. “Eyes on the road, Harrington. Try not to kill us on our way to school.” Turning to Nancy, he answers, “Something I learned how to make at camp this summer. If you pull the lever and then throw it, it should shock whoever it lands on.”

Simultaneously, Nancy, Steve, and Mike all speak.

“Thanks, but I don’t know if I’ll need this today.”

“Why would she need that?”

“Dude! That is so cool!”

Dustin high-fives Mike before pointing at Nancy. “You will _absolutely_ need this today. We saw what kind of damage Dr. Brenner could do. And younger siblings are _always_ sneakier. Look at Lucas and Erica. You and Mike.”

Nancy studies the homemade weapon in her lap silently. Does he really think she’ll need to fight Mr. Brenner? It’s only the second damn day of school. She should be thinking about the homecoming dance and back-to-school parties, not potentially fighting her college application mentor-turned-evil scientist.

Steve raises an eyebrow. “Again, _why_ would she need that? And Dr. Brenner? That’s the guy that tried to take El a couple years ago, right?”

Mike rolls his eyes. “We think his little brother is here to…well, we’re not sure what he’s here to do, exactly, but we know it’s not good. He offered to help Nancy with her college applications, so we’re just taking the necessary precautions. Keep up, Steve.”

Steve inhales sharply as if he’s about to say something, but apparently decides against it, because he simply bites his lip and punches on the radio. “Crazy for You” by Madonna plays softly through the speakers.

Dustin groans. “Do the radio station people _honestly_ think that we want to listen to this on our way to school?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Yeah, because they care what a fourteen-year-old thinks about the music they play.”

Dustin opens the glove compartment and rummages around until he finds a cassette tape. He tries to insert it into the stereo, but it doesn’t go in completely. He shoves it harder, but it still blocks.

Nancy huffs and leans forward between Steve and Dustin. She snatches the tape out of Dustin’s hands and carefully inserts it the way Steve had taught her – diagonally up, and then curve down. The tape slides in smoothly and clicks, indicating it’s in correctly.

Mike scrunches his nose. “You’re terrible with technology, but you can figure out a stereo that Dustin can’t?”

“Nancy’s been in this car way more than anyone else has,” Steve says off-handedly. He blinks and looks back at Nancy for a second, blushing. 

Nancy’s face heats up also. She hadn’t even realized what she’d been doing. It was like muscle memory; Tommy H had never figured out how to successfully put cassette tapes in, so Nancy had always had to do it for him whenever Steve drove them around, or when it had been just her and Steve in the car, she’d always pick the tapes.

Steve’s still looking back at Nancy when a deer runs into the road they’re driving on. Nancy barely has any time to gasp as the deer stops right in front of the moving vehicle.

“Steve!” Mike screeches.

Steve whips his head around, slamming on the breaks. The three boys jerk forward, their seatbelts stopping them, but since Nancy’s is broken, she catapults forward rapidly, slamming into the back of Dustin’s seat, her head ricocheting hard on the window.

Pain erupts in Nancy’s head, and she desperately grabs onto her head, trying to alleviate the pain. The car screeches to a halt as the deer finally meanders away.

Mike quickly unbuckles himself and scoots over to his sister, cradling her head and inspecting it. “Nancy? Nancy? What’s wrong?”

Nancy slowly self-inspects herself. Her head hurts like a bitch, but she’d once gotten a concussion playing soccer in sixth grade, and this doesn’t feel nearly as bad. Her bottom lip feels swollen, and when she touches it, her hand comes back with blood spattered across it.

“I think I just hit my head and split my lip,” she says. Her shoulder is throbbing, too, but she figures that will just be sore and is nothing to worry about too much. “I’m fine, really. That just surprised me.”

“I’m so sorry, guys,” Steve rambles, shaking his head. “I—I didn’t even see it, my reflexes should’ve—”

“Yeah, you didn’t see it because you were too busy _not looking at the fucking road_ ,” Mike seethes, crossing his arms. “Can you just shut up and drive us to school?”

Uncharacteristically silent, Steve nods and continues driving.

Dustin purses his lips. “There usually aren’t that many deer near the city,” he muses, “because of all the cars and roads and houses. They’re usually out in the county where there’s more open land. That’s totally weird that one was so close to the school.”

“Maybe they’re not scared of people anymore,” Nancy replies tiredly, closing her eyes and leaning against the window. “They’re evolving.”

“That’s not evolution,” Dustin points out, “if nothing is physically advancing. I’d say that’s more…learning.”

They all ponder that in silence as Steve finally pulls into the school parking lot.

“Have a good day at school, guys,” he says as they exit the car. “Treat your teachers better than that deer probably treated his!”

“What the hell does that mean?” Mike asks, scrunching up his nose.

Steve shrugs. “I mean, Dustin said that deer had to have learned, right? If you learn something, you’re a student. A pupil. You have to have a teacher.”

Nancy’s not sure if it’s because her skirt leaves her legs bare in the cool morning air or because of Steve’s words, but she shivers.

~

Mr. Brenner folds his hands in front of him and gives Nancy a polite smile. “So. What do you think you want to major in when you go to college?”

Nancy shifts in her seat. This seems more like a formal interview than an impromptu conversation about college. She subconsciously tugs her skirt down to be longer.

“Uh, well, I’m not completely sure,” she admits, frowning. There are so many things she’s imagined herself as, so many things she’s dreamed of being over the years. “My job over the summer was working at the Hawkins Post. I didn’t get to write or publish any stories, though. But I was really excited to. Maybe something in journalism or communications?”

Mr. Brenner nods approvingly. “That’s becoming more popular as time goes on. That’s a solid choice, and having direct experience with a newspaper will definitely benefit you. Do you think your boss would write you a good letter of recommendation?”

Nancy freezes, her voice stuck in her throat. Does Mr. Brenner know all about the Mindflayer? Is this just a trap for him to reveal that he knows everything already?

“I–I...don’t...” Nancy stammers, swallowing hard. All she can think of is Tom trying to attack her and Jonathan and the Mindflayer _this close_ to killing her in the hospital before El saved her. Her heart is pounding in her chest, and why is it so _fucking_ hot in this classroom, and why can she only see Mr. Brenner–

“Nancy! Nancy, look at me,” Mr. Brenner commands sharply. He points to his eyes. “Look in my eyes. There you go. Breathe with me now. In. Out. In. Out. Good, good.”

After a few minutes of quiet breathing, Nancy blinks. She tilts her head to look at Mr. Brenner. Had he done something to her to cause that to happen?

“I think you had a panic attack,” he says softly, oblivious to her paranoid thoughts. “Are you here with me?”

“I think so, yeah,” Nancy answers, her mind reeling. She’s never had a panic attack before. That had been terrifying; she felt like she was going to suffocate. “I’m _so_ sorry, Mr. Brenner. That’s never happened before. I–“

Mr. Brenner holds up his hands. “Nancy, don’t even sweat it. It’s fine. I actually used to get panic attacks when I was younger, so I know what that feels like. You’re probably tired, so I don’t want to bombard you with a bunch of questions now. Do you want to meet again tomorrow during lunch to talk about college applications?”

“If you’ll have me, I would. Thank you,” Nancy says. She takes a deep breath. “I do want to add, though, that...my old boss, Tom...he actually passed away this summer. That’s...” She trails off, figuring Mr. Brenner will be able to infer she won’t be getting any letter of recommendation from him.

Mr. Brenner looks so surprised at that that Nancy figures there’s no way he could’ve possibly had an ulterior motive regarding the Mindflayer. “My god,” he mutters. “That’s horrible. I’m so sorry, Nancy. Someone your age shouldn’t have to experience anything like that.”

Nancy thinks of Barb.

“Right,” she agrees weakly.

Nancy gathers her things and thanks Mr. Brenner again before rushing out of the classroom, shutting it behind her. She leans against the lockers and closes her eyes. What the hell was that?

She can’t believe she just had a panic attack. She debates for a second to just skip the rest of the day and go home, but figures that probably wouldn’t look great that she’s already skipping on the second day.

Nancy glances up at the clock in the hallway. There’s still fifteen minutes left of lunch. She has no appetite now, and she really doesn’t feel like listening to Caroline and her friend’s drone on about the homecoming dance, so she figures she’ll go ahead and go to her next class in the library and wait there until lunch is over.

“Psst! _Hey_!”

Nancy’s head whips around, scanning the seemingly empty hallway she’s currently in for the speaker.

“Nancy, over here.” Dustin steps out of a classroom and beckons her over. “We’ve been waiting for you. Did you forget you were supposed to meet us?”

“Us?” Nancy echoes, confused. She follows Dustin into the classroom and raises her eyebrows when she sees Mike and Lucas, waving innocently at her. “You guys aren’t supposed to be in here. Whose room is this, anyway?”

“That doesn’t matter,” Lucas says, waving his hand in dismissal. “What matters is what Brenner said to you. Did you get any hints as to what he’s up to?”

“Did you have to use Dustin’s weapon?” Mike adds excitedly.

“What? N-no,” Nancy says, addressing both of their questions. “We honestly just talked about college and potential majors and...letters of recommendation. There was no talk of lab experiments or secret agencies or anything. I didn’t even take the thing out of my backpack.”

All boys look thoroughly disappointed.

“Jeez, sorry that planning my future is such bad news,” Nancy mutters. She readjusts her backpack on her shoulders. “Well, if that’s all, I’m going to the library.”

“Are you sure that’s all that happened?” Mike presses, studying his sister. “You look kind of pale.”

“I’m fine. I’m just stressed,” Nancy lies. “There’s a lot more to college applications than I thought, is all. I’ll see you guys later.”

“See you,” the boys chorus.

In the library, Nancy stares at the paper in front of her. It reads the essay prompt for the University of Chicago college application: _How did you get caught?_

Nancy sighs to herself. She knows that Chicago is known for having unordinary questions, but it would truly be so much easier to just write about her summer job or volunteer work or how her mother is her hero.

_How did you get caught?_

She knows that the admissions council will be looking for well-written, thought-out, unique, smart essays. She can do well-written and thought-out; she’s never gotten less than an A+ in her English classes.

But unique and smart…

Nancy slowly starts writing on her paper, a story forming in her mind. _I haven’t gotten caught; not yet, at least. Writing this essay, an admission of guilt, and sending it through the mail may perhaps be my downfall._

She continues writing for a bit before realizing she’s not sure where she’s going to go with this. She hasn’t exactly been caught doing anything seriously wrong before. Anything she can think of is related to El or the Upside Down or the Mindflayer, and she can’t exactly write about that.

Or can she?

Nancy shakes her head. It might make for a good story, but she’d rather not run the risk of Russians hunting her down just to get into a college.

She puts her rough draft essay away and continues doing SAT practice work when the bell rings, signaling the end of lunch.

After her last class of the day, Nancy speed walks through the halls, expertly dodging groups of students. The bus that goes to her neighborhood always leaves first, so she has to rush if she wants a ride home.

“Nancy! Nancy Wheeler!”

Nancy abruptly halts in her steps and closes her eyes in frustration. She takes a deep breath before opening them back up and turning around with a polite smile on her face.

The guidance counselor, Dr. Zimmerman, gives her a warm smile. “Hey, Nancy. I tried looking for you in the cafeteria today, but I couldn’t find you.”

“Oh, yeah,” Nancy says, wondering what this is about. “Uh, I actually went to Mr. Brenner’s room to get some help with college application stuff.”

“That’s the kind of initiative I like to see, especially in Hawkins High’s National Honor Society president,” Dr. Zimmerman gushes, a genuine grin on her face. “Congratulations, Nancy. I finally sorted and counted all the teachers’ votes from last year, and you’re NHS president for this school year!”

Nancy laughs in disbelief. So much had happened over the summer that she’d completely forgotten she’d applied to be president for the Hawkins NHS chapter.

“Oh my gosh, I don’t know what to say,” she admits. “Thank you for letting me know. Is there anything I need to do?”

Dr. Zimmerman nods. “Stop by my office during lunch tomorrow and we’ll discuss it all then. I have to run, but figured I’d catch you before you left. Have a good evening, Nancy!”

“Thanks, you too,” Nancy says as Dr. Zimmerman walks away.

Nancy squeals to herself, unable to keep the smile off of her face. Not only will this be a solid addition to her college applications, but now she’ll be able to be more involved with school and volunteer events without anyone complaining that she’s trying too hard. It’s her _job_ now.

She’s so happy that she’s not even mad her bus has already left by the time she gets outside and she has to walk nearly two miles home.

~

“I mean, what do _you_ think? If Jonathan didn’t call you, what would you think?”

Nancy frowns at her younger brother. “Sorry, dude. Jonathan just called me this morning, remember? I can’t relate.” She teasingly hits him in the face with one of the pillows from her bed. “Relax. You guys are fourteen. She’s probably just stressed about starting school and using a phone is the last thing on her mind.”

Mike dramatically spreads his arms out, taking up Nancy’s entire bed. “You’re no help, Nancy. I come in here seeking advice from the smartest person I know—”

“You came in, messed up my bed, took up all the space in it, and spilled my glass of water on my desk,” Nancy corrects. “And you’re only asking me for advice because Dustin is talking to Suzie and Lucas is out with Max. I heard you yelling at them on the phone after dinner.”

“Details,” Mike sniffs. “But, the fact remains, here I am, seeking help, which you are _not_ providing.”

Nancy rolls her eyes. “I don’t know why El hasn’t called you. I don’t see why you can’t just call her; she’s your girlfriend.”

“I called her first the last three times we talked,” Mike sighs. “I don’t want to seem annoying or clingy. We just talked yesterday.”

“That’s so stupid! Just call her if you want to talk.”

“Nancy, I _can’t_. The foundation of my manhood literally prevents me from doing so.”

The siblings are both silent for a few peaceful minutes, Nancy doing her AP Government homework on her desk, and Mike laying on her bed, staring at the ceiling.

The front doorbell rings. Nancy instinctively covers her ears, fully prepared for when Mike sits up and screams at the top of his lungs. “MOM! Can you get the door?”

Their mother doesn’t answer. Nancy sighs. “She’s probably taking a bath and listening to music and can’t hear you. Juts go answer it.”

“Why don’t you?” Mike retorts.

“I’m doing homework!” Nancy cries.

“I’m analyzing my relationship!”

Three loud knocks echo through the house.

“Go, Mike. They’re obviously not going away,” Nancy huffs. She stands up to peek behind her curtain, and doesn’t see a car outside. “I think they walked. The least we can do is answer the door.”

“ _Holly! Dad!_ ” Mike screeches. “Someone’s at the door!”

Nancy shoves Mike. “Dad took Holly to go buy a poster for her family tree project. They’re not home.” She rolls her eyes when her brother makes no effort to move. “Jesus, fine, I’ll go get the damn door. It’s not like I’m doing anything important.” She slams her pencil down on her homework packet for dramatic effect before exiting her room.

She stomps downstairs. Whoever’s there better have something important to say. She’s going to be pissed if it’s little Mikey from across the street asking if Holly can come over and play.

Before she can reach the doorknob, Mike runs up from behind her.

“What are you doing?” Nancy hisses. “You made such a fuss about not getting—”

“What if it’s El?” Mike asks excitedly. “What if she and Jonathan and Will came here to surprise us?”

“I doubt it,” Nancy deadpans. “It’s a long drive, and they start school soon. They’re probably, like, shopping for school supplies right now.” She grabs the doorknob and twists, pulling the door open to see who’s behind it.

It’s a tall man dressed in an impeccable suit with dark sunglasses on. Before Nancy or Mike can ask what he needs, he whips out a camera, clicks a button, and a blinding flash illuminates the foyer, making both siblings blink and take a step back.

By the time Nancy’s vision goes back to normal, the man is gone. She swallows heavily, her throat dry, a knot forming in her stomach. The skin on the back of her neck is tingling. Who was that, and why did he take a picture of them?

She looks to her brother. Mike looks just as scared, his face pale and eyes wide.

“Mike,” Nancy says quietly, grabbing his hand. “Fuck your manhood. Go call El.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! This one is a little boring, but it's setting up the bigger picture here, and I enjoy writing the small moments between Nancy and her family or the boys :) Until next time!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you okay, Nancy? You haven’t seemed like yourself lately,” Mrs. Wheeler sighs. “Is this just teenage rebellion, or is something—”
> 
> “Mommy! Mommy! We have to leave now to get to Jessie’s birthday party!” Holly cries, suddenly running in. “Daddy’s asleep and can’t take me!”
> 
> Mrs. Wheeler gives Nancy a warning look before exiting the kitchen with Holly. Nancy rolls her eyes and sighs. She contemplates calling Jonathan to vent to him, but she knows he’s already nervous enough about starting a new school on Monday, so she stops herself.
> 
> Nancy goes upstairs to her room and plops herself down at her desk. She reaches into her backpack and pulls out her textbook to start on her homework.
> 
>  _Homework on a Friday night?_ she thinks bitterly. _Teenage rebellion, my ass._

“Mike, sweetie, you’ve barely touched your supper,” Mrs. Wheeler chastises, pointing to her son’s dinner plate. “Come on. Eat up. You’ve had a long week.”

“It’s only Thursday!” Holly giggles.

“Sorry that high school is a hell of a lot harder than kindergarten,” Mike snaps at her, stabbing his lasagna with his fork.

“Language, Michael,” Mr. Wheeler sighs, frowning.

“Apologize to your sister, right now,” Mrs. Wheeler adds sternly.

Exasperated, she looks at Nancy for help, who shrugs her shoulders, despite knowing exactly why Mike is in a bad mood. Joyce hadn’t let El or either of her sons come to Hawkins after Nancy and Mike had told them what happened.

“I’m sorry,” Mike sniffs, rolling his eyes.

Mrs. Wheeler clears her throat, obviously displeased with her two older children, but mentions nothing further. Changing the subject, she looks at Nancy. “I ran into Ms. White this morning on my way in to work. She asked if you could watch her dog for her on Sunday. She has to go into South Bend Saturday night to visit her sister and won’t be back until Monday morning. She’ll give you ten dollars.”

Nancy shrugs, mainly just to piss off her parents because it’s an “unprofessional” gesture, but is secretly glad deep down for the opportunity. She doesn’t think she’ll have time to get a consistent job during the school year, so any easy way to make money is welcome. “Sounds good. I can work on my homework while I’m over there.”

Mike scoffs. “ _I_ could watch her dog, too. Nancy has more money than me anyway!”

“She didn’t ask for you, did she?” Nancy asks tauntingly, smirking at her brother.

“The last time Ms. White saw you, you were blowing spitballs in church,” Mr. Wheeler reminds Mike. “If you want more responsibilities and opportunities, you’re going to need to show that you’re capable.”

“I was _eleven_!”

“I’m president of National Honor Society,” Nancy blurts, eager to switch the subject. “Dr. Zimmerman told me earlier this week.”

“Oh, honey, congratulations!” Mrs. Wheeler gushes, reaching across the table to squeeze Nancy’s hand. “Do you have to do a lot in that position?”

“I think I’ll manage,” Nancy answers. “So far, I just have to write out a letter that’ll get sent to people if they want to apply for this year. And then we’ll see.”

“You should organize more community service this year. That’ll look good on your résumé,” Mr. Wheeler tells her. “My buddy down at Bill’s always needs help chopping wood and sorting. He’d probably appreciate some high school guys coming to help.”

“I don’t think a bunch of high schoolers are gonna spend their weekends chopping wood,” Mike deadpans.

“Yeah, we usually just do the same events every year,” Nancy agrees. “But I’ll look into some more options.”

“I just gave you one,” Mr. Wheeler says. “How do you know what the other kids want to do if you haven’t even asked them?”

“I mean, the events are things, like, reading to the elementary schoolers or helping out at the soup kitchen,” Nancy says, bristling. She’d brought up her new presidency to change the topic and bring some good, light news to the table, and now it’s turning into an argument. “Manual labor isn’t a pillar of NHS.”

“Did I say it was?” Mr. Wheeler asks, spreading his arms in question. “I just gave you a damn suggestion, Nancy, I’m not f—”

“Uh, language,” Mike cuts in sarcastically.

Mrs. Wheeler slams her hands on the kitchen table suddenly, effectively shutting everyone up. She closes her eyes for a moment, collecting herself, before looking at Nancy and Mike, a hard expression on her face.

“Stop arguing with your father,” she says seriously. “It’s incredibly disrespectful. He was trying to help. Both of you, go to your rooms. Now.”

Nancy rolls her eyes. Of all times, her mother chooses now to side with her father. She briefly considers mentioning now the cheating situation, but she’s not _that_ bad of a person. Usually.

She pushes back her chair and briskly walks upstairs, Mike right behind her. The two of them silently walk into Nancy’s room. Mike shuts and locks the door behind them as Nancy picks up her desk chair and wedges it securely under her doorknob so the door can’t be pushed in. Mike bends down to turn on her portable radio and turns the volume up so that it’s quiet enough that they won’t get in trouble, but loud enough their voices won’t be heard.

This is a routine they’ve done a million times before. Like clockwork.

“Dad’s a fucking dick,” Mike groans, leaning against her headboard and staring up at the ceiling. “I hope I never turn out like that.”

“You won’t,” Nancy assures him, mimicking his position. “If you do, I’ll punch you in the face.”

“Good. Don’t break my nose, though. I can’t risk tampering with the masterpiece known as my face.”

“I’m about to punch you right now.”

“Okay, okay. I’m shutting up.”

~

Nancy stares at Mr. Jenner from outside his classroom, silently demanding for him to look up into her eyes. When he does, she’ll be able to tell if he knows about the man who took a picture of her and Mike. She’s good at reading facial expressions.

He never looks up. He continues grading papers, seemingly immersed, oblivious to her presence.

Nancy huffs, turns on her heels, and marches down the hallway. There are too many things on her mind right now to focus on trying to get Mr. Jenner to slip up, so she lets her brain go on autopilot as she enters the library and begins compiling the letter to send out to all prospective new members. She utilizes new writing skills she’d learned while working at the Post, and when she’s finished, she takes her paper and leaves it on Dr. Zimmerman’s desk.

She starts heading to the cafeteria. Before she can reach it, someone grabs her arm.

Nancy instinctively flinches and balls up her right fist, ready to punch whoever’s grabbed her.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Chill out, Nancy!”

Nancy blinks and stares up at Roger Holden.

“Oh, hi, Roger,” she says, unclenching her fist. He glances down at it and says nothing, just raises his eyebrows expectantly at her. “Sorry. I’ve had a bogus couple of days. I’m just on edge.”

“I can see that,” Roger says, not unfriendly. He gives Nancy an easy grin. “You know what would be the perfect way to chill out? Coming to my party this weekend. You never gave me an answer.”

Nancy raises her eyebrows in surprise. This wasn’t what she was expecting to come from Roger. “Oh. Uh, yeah, sorry about that. I’ll see if I can stop by for a little, but I’ve been–”

“Busy, I know. I can tell,” Roger interrupts. “Come on, Nancy, it’s our senior year! You should be having fun! Besides, you showing up to the party can make up for you almost breaking your thumb just to sock me.”

Nancy scoffs and crosses her arms good-naturedly. “I was _not_ going to break my thumb. Might’ve broken your nose, though.”

“Nancy, your thumb was inside your first. You don’t do that,” Roger deadpans. He smirks. “You know, my uncle recently opened up the new gym next to Starcourt. The whole back room is just boxing and fighting and stuff. You should check it out, if you actually want to be able to defend yourself.”

Nancy remembers the sense of pride she’d felt when the Demogorgon had been outside the Byers’ house and Hopper had asked Jonathan if he could use a gun, and she’d stepped forward to announce that _she_ could.

“I can defend myself,” she offers lamely.

Roger chuckles. “Yeah, okay. Well, offer’s on the table, if you ever change your mind.” He gives her a small wave before starting to walk away. “I’ll see you this weekend at my house!”

“You wish!” Nancy calls back, smiling at his retreating figure.

She and Roger used to be good friends back in elementary school because they’d been put in the same class for kindergarten through fifth grade. She hadn’t had many classes with him in middle school, and by the time they’d reached high school, she’d assumed he was a jerk like his older brother. She apparently assumed wrong.

As she passes Mr. Jenner’s classroom, she hopes that the Holdens aren’t the only brothers who aren’t alike.

~

Nancy hears the newly-familiar clacking of her mother’s work shoes on the floor. She sprints into the kitchen before Mrs. Wheeler can leave and effectively blocks the exit by spreading her arms out as wide as she can.

“Oh, don’t do that Nancy,” Mrs. Wheeler chastises, pushing her arms down. “You look like Larry Bird.”

Nancy lets her arms go slack, caught off guard. “ _You_ watch basketball?”

Her mother rolls her eyes. “I know more than you think, Nancy. One day you’ll realize that.”

Nancy crosses her arms, suddenly back on track. “If you know so much, why would you cheat on Dad?” She doesn’t give her mother time to answer before she begins pacing back and forth. “I mean, _fuck_ , Mom! It’s Hawkins! Everyone knows someone who knows someone, and then that covers the whole goddamn town! What were you thinking? Are you okay? I’m an adult now, too, you know. You can _talk_ to me!”

She takes a deep breath, somewhat surprised by her own outburst. She wryly realizes after she finishes her rant that she didn’t mention her father’s feelings once. Oops.

Karen Wheeler stares at her daughter in shock for a few seconds before regaining her composure. She clears her throat and straightens her back, prepared to present a logical argument, but when she meets Nancy’s eyes, her eyes tear up and her lip quivers.

“I–I didn’t mean–” she stammers, wiping her eyes quickly. “How did you even find that out, Nancy? Nothing happened, it was just, just–”

“Just stupid,” Nancy cuts in, crossing her arms. She feels a sudden urge to defend her father, because it’s her _father_ , despite the fact that he had been a dick, as Mike so eloquently put it, last night. She may be more like her mother, but Mrs. Wheeler is in the wrong here, and Nancy feels it’s her duty as the oldest child to hold their mother accountable. “Do you not love Dad anymore? This isn’t fair to him. If you don’t, then you need to d–”

“Of course I still love your father,” Mrs. Wheeler snaps, slamming her hand down on the kitchen counter. “Do not _ever_ ask me that, Nancy. Enough goddamn people have been asking me that ever since we got engaged, and I definitely don’t need it from my child. Do you hear that? _Child_. You may be eighteen, but as long as you’re living in my house, you _will_ show some respect to your parents, Nancy.”

“I wasn’t being disrespectful!” Nancy cries, defensive. How the hell did this conversation turn so _she’s_ the one getting yelled at? “You almost cheated on my dad! I have a right to know why and with who!”

“It’s not any of your concern because it didn’t happen,” her mother insists, raising an eyebrow. “And it never will. I considered it, I’ll admit that. But at the end of the day, I care too much for your father and you kids to jeopardize what we have. You guys are my everything.”

“It doesn’t feel like it sometimes,” Nancy interrupts.

In the back of her mind, she knows she’s projecting some anger onto her mother that isn’t her fault, but she doesn’t care.

She’s incredibly stressed about college applications, which her mother can’t relate to because she hadn’t had to go through that; a creepy man has a picture of her and Mike, and they don’t know why or where he is; she hasn’t seen Jonathan in weeks, and she misses him; she wants El and the Byers boys to come and help them figure out what’s going on; the new science teacher may or may not be a secret evil experimenter; she has to plan the upcoming NHS meeting and finish her AP English homework this weekend; she has to figure out what to wear if she decides to go to Roger’s party—

“Are you okay, Nancy? You haven’t seemed like yourself lately,” Mrs. Wheeler sighs. “Is this just teenage rebellion, or is something—”

“Mommy! Mommy! We have to leave now to get to Jessie’s birthday party!” Holly cries, suddenly running in. “Daddy’s asleep and can’t take me!”

Mrs. Wheeler gives Nancy a warning look before exiting the kitchen with Holly. Nancy rolls her eyes and sighs. She contemplates calling Jonathan to vent to him, but she knows he’s already nervous enough about starting a new school on Monday, so she stops herself.

Nancy goes upstairs to her room and plops herself down at her desk. She reaches into her backpack and pulls out her textbook to start on her homework.

 _Homework on a Friday night?_ she thinks bitterly. _Teenage rebellion, my ass._

~

Nancy touches up her eyeshadow and mascara, widening her eyes dramatically in the mirror. Once she’s satisfied with her look, she fluffs her hair up with her fingers one last time before exiting the bathroom.

Mike pushes himself off the wall outside the bathroom. “Finally,” he groans. “I’ve been waiting forever.”

“You could’ve used Mom and Dad’s; they’re not going to be home until tomorrow,” Nancy points out. “That’s your own fault.”

Mike shrugs and walks into the bathroom. A second later, he retreats, and looks Nancy up and down. “Where are you going, exactly?”

“Roger Holden’s. He’s throwing some party,” Nancy answers, tugging her short skirt down. “I probably won’t stay for long, but I figured I should go, considering—” _The last time I went to a high school party I got too drunk and began the end of my relationship with Steve and didn’t even realize who was taking me home_ – “—it’s my senior year.”

Mike nods slowly. “Well, have fun. Dustin and Lucas and Max are coming over soon so they’ll probably be here when you get back. And be careful.”

“You too,” Nancy tells him. She isn’t too comfortable leaving Mike and Holly home alone since that mysterious man appeared, but if those three are coming over, she figures an hour or two away won’t hurt.

She jogs downstairs to go wait on the porch for Caroline to pick her up. She wasn’t thrilled when Caroline offered to drive her to Roger’s, but her parents had gone to Indianapolis over the weekend to “work out some things,” and her dad had taken both car keys with him so she wouldn’t drive past her curfew.

Caroline pulls up to the Wheeler’s house a few minutes later in her mom’s station wagon. Nancy timidly slides into the front seat and buckles.

“Sorry I’m a few minutes late,” Caroline rambles, speeding off. “I, like, totally blanked on where you lived for a bit and almost went to the other side of town. I haven’t been to your house since, like, middle school!”

 _There’s a reason_ , Nancy thinks. Out loud, she says, “You’re fine. Thanks for getting me.”

“Anytime, sweetie,” Caroline gushes. “Honestly, any favor I can do for Roger, I can. His mom was a Kappa at Indiana so I’m hoping that she can put in a good word for me if I go there.”

“Oh, that’s…cool,” Nancy replies. Then she scrunches up her nose. “Wait, why is picking me up a favor for Roger and not me?”

Caroline raises an eyebrow. “Aren’t you and Roger, like, about to become official? I have Calculus with him this semester and he’s always talking about how pretty you are and things you’ve done. Congrats on NHS president, by the way. I think it’s great that Dr. Zimmerman chooses such different people every year.”

Nancy decides not to unpack what Caroline says about NHS too far because she knows she’ll find venom behind her words. Instead, she focuses on what Caroline said about Roger. “Roger and I aren’t about to date. I don’t know _why_ he’s talking about me. I’m still with Jonathan.”

“Oh! I didn’t realize. That’s cute,” Caroline comments. “Okay, here we are. Do you need a ride home? Because—”

“I’ve got it. Thanks,” Nancy says through clenched teeth, as friendly as she can manage. She exits the car and, without waiting for Caroline, walks through the front door of Roger’s house.

Immediately, the stench of alcohol and cigarettes hits Nancy. She blinks a couple of times, adjusting to the smell, and pushes through the bodies squished in the house, trying to find the kitchen. By the time she does, she’s starting to sweat.

Someone is pouring and laying out multiple shots on the kitchen table. Nancy manages to snag one and downs it quickly, wincing at the taste. The liquor is strong and warm and not what she wants right now.

She grabs a plastic cup from the stack on the kitchen counter and pours herself some of the blue juice in the giant bowl that multiple people are located around. The taste of alcohol is strong, but it’s also cool and refreshing, so she downs half the cup. Looking around, she recognizes some people from school, but isn’t in the mood to talk to any of them, especially not if they’re friends with Roger and think he and she are going to date.

Nancy clutches her cup to her chest as she maneuvers her way further into the house. If she’s remembering correctly, the last time she was here in elementary school, Roger’s dad had started building a patio with a roof and garden in the back. She exits the house through the back door and finds the patio. There’s no roof, but there a lot of tall plants and benches, and no one is around. Perfect.

Nancy sits down on one of the benches and slowly sips at her drink. After a few minutes, she notices a stack of books on the bottom shelf of the table in front of her. She bends down to pick some of them up and places them on the bench beside her. Some of them are old novels, but some of them are old yearbooks. Nancy smiles to herself and picks up one from the 1979-1980 school year, when she was in sixth grade.

The book starts with photos of the faculty and staff, and then with the oldest students. Nancy flips through the eighth graders, vaguely remembering some of them, and slows down when she gets to the seventh graders. She chuckles to herself when she sees Jonathan’s portrait. He had a bowl haircut and had a bright yellow cast on his arm. She rolls her eyes fondly when she sees Steve’s. He’d always been all about the hair.

Nancy finishes her drink before going to her grade. Her breath catches in her throat when she sees Barb’s portrait. Barb’s hair had been long in sixth grade, the longest it’d ever been, halfway down her back, bright red and beautiful. She hadn’t worn glasses yet, and her eyes are shiny and smiling in her portrait, the kind of eyes that kids who haven’t seen the world yet have.

A strangled gasp emits from Nancy, and she realizes that she’s crying, tears relentlessly streaming down her face and neck and onto her nice blouse. She suddenly misses Barb so ferociously that it hurts, her chest aching and her feet tingling. It seems like all Nancy can do is stare at the picture of Barb and cry silently for her best friend who didn’t deserve such a horrible death.

“It should’ve been me,” Nancy whispers. For a moment, she’s shocked at what she’s just said out loud; but then, as she thinks about it, she realizes it’s true. After all, Barb hadn’t even wanted to go to Steve’s in the first place. Nancy cries even harder. God, why had she been so _stupid_?

“Nancy! Hey! I thought that was you. What—” Steve suddenly enters the backyard, faltering when he sees her. He jogs over to her, concerned. “What’s wrong?”

Nancy can’t move her eyes off of the yearbook page. She thinks about how ironic it is that Steve, of all people, would come out and find her right now. It’s better than Caroline or Roger, though, she supposes.

“Oh, shit,” Steve says quietly when he sees Barb’s portrait. Cautiously, he gently lifts the yearbook out of Nancy’s lap and closes it, setting it down with the rest of the books. He sits down on the other side of Nancy.

The two of them don’t speak, just sit in a comfortable silence, and for that, Nancy is grateful. She doesn’t think she could talk right now even if she wanted to.

A few minutes later, Nancy hears a single set of footsteps approaching. She sits up straight and hastily wipes at her eyes, knowing her smudged mascara probably makes her look like a raccoon.

“There you are, Harrington! Jeez, I was about to leave without you.”

Nancy stares up at Robin, who looks confused at finding her with Steve. She’d never really talked to Robin in school because she was a grade above her and had mainly hung out with band kids Nancy didn’t know, but she’d always thought she was pretty, and Steve and Dustin seemed to like her, and she’d helped with the Mindflayer, so she was okay in Nancy’s book.

“Uh…hey, Nancy,” Robin says, slowly walking over to the bench. She sits down on the table in front of Nancy and Steve. She studies Nancy’s tear-streaked face for a second. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Nancy lies, her voice stuffed up. She stares down at her lap, unable to make eye contact with either one of them.

Steve clears his throat. “Nancy was looking through one of the old middle school yearbooks.”

“Oh, Jesus, if I had to see my twelve-year-old self,” Robin laughs, shaking her head. “I actually requested to have my hair up to my ears. I guess my parents should have guessed then that I was gay.”

Nancy finally looks up, a bit taken by the seemingly self-deprecating joke, but Robin is still smiling and even Steve chuckles. She sighs.

“Barb used to have really long hair and then cut it to her ears,” Nancy sniffs. “If she was gay she didn’t even get to come out because she’s dead.”

Robin blinks for a moment. “Oh, shit,” she finally says. “Nancy, I’m sorry.” She glances down at the yearbook. “I didn’t—”

“It’s not your fault, it’s fine,” Nancy cuts in, shaking her head. “You’re not the one that got her killed.”

“It wasn’t you, either, Nancy,” Steve insists, nudging her shoulder.

“You’re right,” Nancy says. She takes a deep breath and looks up at the stars. “It was both of us.”

Robin raises an eyebrow in question. Steve rolls his eyes and shakes his head, mouthing, _She’s drunk_ , to Robin. Nancy sees it but is too tired to call him out on it.

“Well, it was nice to see both of you. I have to get going. I’m dog-sitting for Ms. White,” Nancy announces. She stands up, stumbling on her feet at first, before gaining her balance and walking toward the house.

Steve grabs her shoulder gently. “Hey, hey. Slow down. Do you have a ride home? We can take you.”

Nancy crosses her arms. “Your breath smells like beer, Steve.”

“I’m driving,” Robin offers. “I promise I’ve only had water tonight.”

Nancy reluctantly agrees. The three of them cut through Roger’s yard to get to Robin’s car, and Nancy climbs in the backseat. Nancy closes her eyes, suddenly tired. Maybe she drank more than she thought after all.

She vaguely hears Steve giving Robin directions to her house. A few minutes later, she’s awakened by the sound of Dustin’s voice.

“Steve, you son of a bitch! It’s so good to see you! What a surprise!”

“I just brought you to school this week,” Steve deadpans. “Were you—were you watching the front door?”

“I came up to get myself a snack and saw Robin’s car outside so I came out,” Dustin answers. “What’re you guys doing here? Are you going to join our D&D—”

“Definitely not!” Robin cuts in.

Steve opens the passenger door and motions toward the backseat. “Can you help Nancy get inside? She’s a little drunk.”

“I am not,” Nancy sniffs. She opens the backseat door and stumbles out, Steve catching her elbow. He raises an eyebrow and smirks slightly, his statement proven.

Nancy begrudgingly smirks back and shuts the car door. She thanks Robin for the ride and wraps an arm around Dustin’s shoulders as he leads her inside, waving goodbye to Steve.

“Fun night?” Dustin asks once they’ve entered the house. He locks the front door behind them as Nancy kicks off her shoes.

“Not really,” Nancy answers, sitting down on the stairs. “I think Roger just invited me because he likes me even though I’m still dating Jonathan and I found a picture of Barb from middle school and cried the whole time.”

Dustin blinks. He opens his mouth to speak before closing it. “I’m…not sure the correct way to respond to that.”

Nancy sighs and shakes her head. “Don’t worry about it.”

Mike, Lucas, and Max come up the basement steps and make their way over to them.

“Hey. How was the party?” Mike asks Nancy, sitting down on the steps beside her.

“Bad. How’s your game?”

“Bad.”

Nancy rests her head on her brother’s shoulder, surprising him, but he lets her. “I need to ride your bike to Ms. White’s house. I have to let the dog out tonight.”

“Uh, you are not in the right state, emotionally or physically, to ride a bike right now,” Dustin advises.

Mike, Lucas, and Max look at him questioningly. Dustin mouths, _Barb_ , and Nancy rolls her eyes.

“I’m drunk, not blind,” she tells him. “And our dad took both car keys with him. How do you suggest I get over there, then?”

Ten minutes later, she climbs off the back of Dustin’s bike, patting her body to make sure she’s okay. “You’re a horrible bike rider.”

“You try having a tipsy teenage girl on the back of your bike,” Dustin retorts. He studies the house in front of them. “So this is Ms. White’s place, huh?”

“Yup,” Nancy answers, leading him to the front door. She pulls Ms. White’s key out of her pocket and unlocks the door. “I still think you’re weird for wanting to see her house. She probably won’t be happy I brought you here.”

“She doesn’t have to know,” Dustin points out. “In third grade, she said I was causing a ruckus at the general store downtown, and told my mom, and I was grounded for a week. I’ve always wanted to see where she lives.” He studies the interior of the house—plain gray couches, white walls, no picture frames or pops of color. “Boring. Good. Just as I expected.”

“Come here, Sunny!” Nancy calls.

Ms. White’s golden retriever comes bounding toward her, wagging his tail excitedly. Nancy pets him for a few seconds before opening the back door to let him out.

“Do you have to come back here tomorrow?” Dustin asks.

“Yeah, in the morning to feed him breakfast and let him out, once in the afternoon, and once in the evening to feed him dinner,” Nancy answers, filling up Sunny’s water dish in the sink. “Ms. White is going to be back late Sunday or early Monday, though.”

A few minutes later, Nancy opens the back door again to call Sunny in. He doesn’t come.

She frowns and steps out onto the deck. “Sunny? Sunny! Come on, boy!”

“I see him,” Dustin says, pointing to a shadow in the middle of the yard. “He’s bent down or something. Probably eating his own shit. Of course Ms. White would have a dumb dog, too.”

“Don’t be mean to the dog,” Nancy chastises. She sighs. The two of them walk across the yard to Sunny, who looks up at them happily.

Next to him is a small brown bird. The bird looks up at the two humans before quickly flying away.

“What the hell?” Nancy mutters. “Don’t birds fly away at, like, everything? Including dogs? Why did that one just let Sunny hang out with him?”

Dustin looks up at her, eyes wide and serious, something Nancy had not been expecting.

“They’re spying on us!” he cries, his voice quiet. He grabs Nancy’s hands and runs inside the house, Sunny following them, oblivious to what’s going on. Nancy manages to toss Sunny a treat before Dustin is pushing her out the front door and onto the bike and pedals as hard as he can back toward the Wheeler house.

“Dustin!” Nancy yells. She shakes his shoulder, and he brakes hard, nearly sending her flying off the bike. “You need to calm down. I can barely stay on the bike. What are you talking about? Who’s spying on us? You got that from a bird?”

Dustin clamps a hand over her mouth. “Jesus, Nancy! Shut up! They might be listening!” he whispers fiercely.

Nancy pushes his hand off her mouth. “Don’t ever do that again. Who might be listening?”

Dustin takes a deep breath, obviously frustrated with her. Slowly, as if she’s a small child, he answers, “The mother _fucking_ Russians.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the long delay!! Work had me tired all the time, and I recently moved back to school because classes start next week, and I had a lot to do before then. Once classes start and I figure out a consistent schedule I'll hopefully post more often. Until then, enjoy :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the first time in months, Nancy feels alive—the paranoia, the chaos, the secrecy of this all—and she knows that she’d be safer if this wasn’t happening, but she can’t help it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's up a lot later than I would've liked, but...it's up!! Thanks again for reading, and let me know what you think!! :)

Nancy would have laughed in someone’s face three years ago if they’d told her that one day she would be sitting on the floor, of her own basement, at two o’clock in the morning, intently listening to a bunch of high school freshmen banter about their individual plans to save the country.

“We _don’t_ do that,” Lucas insists to Max, clasping his hands together, making Max raise her eyebrows, “because, and hear me out, we’re _kids_. It is not our job to intentionally fight the Russians! We’ve done that enough! Let the people whose job this actually is fight them for once.”

“Yeah, because they’d actually do anything,” Mike scoffs, rolling his eyes. “The Hawkins Police Department was never great, and that was _with_ Hopper as their chief. I mean, they haven’t even elected a new one yet! We can’t expect them to do anything, at least not efficiently. _We_ can do something _now_.”

“No, we cannot,” Lucas argues, waving his hands. “It’s almost two in the morning! I have to get home because my family’s going to church in the morning and I have to be in bed when my mom wakes up.”

“I didn’t mean right this very second,” Mike says, sitting on the arm of the couch. “But we can do something soon. Meet back here tomorrow night, after dinner.”

“My parents won’t let me,” Max says. She chews on her lip. “I snuck out tonight. Usually they don’t let me out super late since...” Her voice trails off, and Nancy feels a pang of empathy.

“I can’t either,” Lucas adds, rubbing Max’s shoulder affectionately. She leans into his touch, and Nancy resists the urge to smile at how cute they are. “I’ve got a geometry quiz Monday.”

Dustin looks at him in disbelief. “Dude. The fate of this country as we know it hangs in the balance, and you’re worried about _geometry_?”

“Hey, even if we save the country, we’re still gonna need jobs after!”

“You could still find a job after failing geometry,” Nancy quips, speaking up for the first time. She knows saying this is redundant, that there are more important matters at hand, but she can’t resist poking fun at them, just a little. “Steve had to take it twice and has had multiple jobs.”

Lucas stares at her, mouth open. “If you think I want to work at the ice cream—”

“Guys, can we focus?” Dustin screeches suddenly, leaping off the couch. Mike wastes no time in taking the newly available spot before Nancy can even think about moving from the floor. “What are we going to do about the Russians?”

“I think Lucas is right on this one,” Nancy replies reluctantly. “I mean, he’s right. Half the reason we were able to do as much as we did in the past was because we had the chief of police covering us and had one of your parents in on it. The only reason most of us are alive right now is because of El’s powers. Without them—” She shakes her head. “I don’t want to think about what would’ve happened to us.”

Mike crosses his arms. “You’re still drunk, Nancy. Your opinion doesn’t count right now. I say we call the Byers and tell them what’s going on.”

“I’m _not_ drunk, actually, thank you very much,” Nancy snaps, getting annoyed. “It’s been over three hours since I last had a drink. What would you know? You’ve never drank before! And I should have _more_ of a say than you do, actually. Dustin and I are the ones who actually saw the bird.”

“They have my picture!” Mike argues. “I have just as much, if not more, of a say than you!”

“We don’t even have hard evidence,” Nancy huffs. “We can’t just call the Byers up because Dustin and I saw a bird that seemed weird. This is just…a hunch. For now, this stays in Hawkins. Got it?” She makes her voice sharp, commanding, reminiscent of her twelve-year-old self who loved to boss the boys around.

Lucas and Max sit up straighter at her harsh tone and nod agreeably. Dustin nods also, suspiciously compliant, and Nancy looks at her brother pointedly.

“Okay, fine,” he eventually grumbles. “I’m going to bed. I’ll see you guys after dinner?”

“Not me,” Max sighs. “You guys will just have to bring me up to speed at lunch on Monday.”

“Same here,” Lucas adds.

The two of them stand and follow Mike up the stairs, leaving Nancy and Dustin alone in the basement. She runs a hand through her hair.

“You want a ride home?” she asks. “I’m okay to drive, I swear.”

Dustin smiles cheerily at her. “It’s alright. I’ll bike. Thanks, though.”

Nancy follows him up the basement stairs and waits until he mounts his bike outside and pedals off in the distance before locking the front door and heading upstairs. She glances the growing pile of papers she has on her desk, along with an equally menacing post-it note full of tasks to complete, and decides all that work is a problem for future Nancy, not present Nancy.

Present Nancy needs to sleep.

~

“Are you feeling alright? You seem really…tense,” Mr. Brenner asks Nancy, furrowing his eyebrows. “If you’re still having trouble dealing with the panic attacks—”

“It’s not that,” Nancy hastily cuts in. She gives him what she hopes is a convincing smile. “I just had kind of a crazy weekend and not enough time to finish everything I wanted to.”

Mr. Brenner nods as if he understands. “Ah,” he muses, “so I’m guessing you were present at Mr. Holden’s little shindig this weekend?”

Nancy glances up from where she’d been working on her resume to gape at Mr. Brenner. “Wh-what? How do you know about that?”

He raises an eyebrow, seemingly amused. “I have ears, you know. That’s all any of the upperclassmen could talk about on Friday. Also, the guy in the apartment above me is police. He had to leave at like two in the morning to go shut it down because neighbors were complaining. You weren’t there when it got shut down?”

 _No_ , Nancy thinks sarcastically. _I was plotting how to take down evil Russians with my little brother and his friends around that time._

“No, I guess I must’ve left before then,” Nancy says, shrugging. She pointedly looks back down at the paper in front of her. “Do you think I should include that I did choir my freshman year? I hated it, and I sucked, but not everyone takes it, so…that should count, right?”

Mr. Brenner nods, looking at the paper also. “It wouldn’t hurt. Anything that can make you stand out you should do. How’s your personal statement coming along?”

“It’s…at a standstill right now, honestly,” Nancy sighs. “I’m eighteen years old and they expect me to condense my life into a couple of paragraphs with a meaning behind it all and have a plan for the rest of my life! It’s so much harder than I thought it would be.”

Mr. Brenner nods. “It is. But you’re smart. You can do it.”

Nancy chuckles, giving him a small smile. “Thanks, Mr. Brenner. I really appreciate you doing this again after I freaked out last time.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it, Nancy. We’re all human.”

When the bell rings, Nancy heads to the library. She’s two sentences into a revised personal statement essay when she hears someone clearing their throat behind her.

She reluctantly turns. She’s not in the mood to speak to anyone from school right now because she’d left Roger’s party early, and she’s not in the mood to have anyone look at her beause her hair hadn’t cooperated this morning and she’d had to just pile it in a messy bun on top of her head. Then Mike had been hogging the bathroom mirror, and she hadn’t had time to do her makeup.

“Hi, Roger,” Nancy sighs, grimacing. “How are you?”

“I’ve been better,” he admits, running a hand through his hair and sliding into the seat next to her. Nancy wonders when saying hi to someone was an invitation to sit with them, but says nothing. “I’m guessing you heard about the cops at the party.”

“Oh, yeah, I did,” Nancy says, putting down her pencil. “That sucks. I’m sorry. Are you in a lot of trouble?”

Roger nods. “My mom took away the car keys. My dad drove me to school this morning on his way to work and she’s picking me up after school. And they’re making me mow my neighbor’s lawn to make up for ‘ruining his night’s sleep.’” He rolls his eyes, and Nancy smiles, amused.

“That blows,” she agrees. “I left before then, though. But for getting the cops called on you that seems pretty light. My parents would’ve lost their shit.”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, actually,” Roger says. He leans forward toward Nancy. “Your dad is cousins with someone who works for the city, right?”

Nancy blinks. She hadn’t been expecting that. She racks her brain for the information. “Um, I think my dad is like, third cousins with the wife of someone who works there,” she answers uncertainly. “But we’re not super close or anything. I haven’t seen him in, like, nearly a year. His name is Glen and he’s a paralegal, I think.”

Roger nods enthusiastically. “Yeah! Him. I was wondering if you could go down there and see if they’re going to actually go through with the charges against me. My parents gave me a pretty light punishment because they think PD might get me for underage drinking and distribution of alcohol and destruction of property for my neighbor’s yard and stuff like that.”

Nancy’s eyes widen. “Oh my god. That’s…”

Roger chuckles dryly. “Yeah, I’m kind of kissing my chances at going to Chicago next fall goodbye. But it would really help if I could just mentally prepare for getting arrested.” He gives Nancy a small smile. “Please? For old time’s sake?”

Nancy considers it. She doesn’t have anything to do tonight since it’s a Monday. Mike had invited Lucas, Max, and Dustin over to talk again, but she figures she shouldn’t be spending so much of her time with a bunch of fourteen-year-olds. And besides, maybe someone at the courthouse could give her advice for a personal statement for college.

She nods at Roger. “I’ll head over there after school and try and ask someone. I’m not making any promises, though. I don’t want you to get your hopes up.”

To her surprise, Roger leans forward and engulfs her in a brief hug. “Thanks, Nancy. You’re the best.” He pulls away and takes a deep breath. “I really hope this doesn’t fuck up my chances of college. That would ruin this whole year, and we’ll never be as free as we are right now, you know?” He gives her a small salute and walks away.

Nancy chews on her lip, contemplating. _We’ll never be as free as we are right now._ What the hell does that mean?

~

Nancy squares her shoulders and takes a deep breath before pushing open the tall doors leading to the interior of the courthouse. She hasn’t been inside in a few years, but it’s just as intimidating as she remembers it at twelve years old. Everything is sparkling clean and in an orderly location, and everyone is dressed in business clothes, making her feel out of place in her ripped jeans, sneakers, and tee shirt.

“Hi, miss,” a young man at the front desk greets her. He briefly eyes her attire and gives her a welcoming smile immediately after, but Nancy doesn’t miss it. You learn to pay attention to those types of looks. “How can I help you?”

“I’m looking for Glen Wilson,” Nancy answers, hoping her confident tone doesn’t betray the uneasiness she feels inside. Will she even be allowed in? “He’s a paralegal. He should be here.”

The man flips through a notebook in front of him. “Uhh, let’s see…yeah, Wilson, he should have an office on the third floor. Is he expecting you, or do you want me to make a call up there?”

“He’s not expecting me,” Nancy says. “Um, he’s cousins with my father. I just have some stuff to give him. I wouldn’t want to bother him with a phone call in case he’s working on something important.”

“Yeah, this says he’s supposed to be in a meeting right now, but it might be over,” the man replies. “Well, you can go on up. What was your name, so I can put you in the book?”

Nancy thinks for a second. She’s not doing anything wrong, exactly, but she still feels like no one should know she’s here. Maybe it’s just the natural paranoia that comes as a side effect from fighting monsters from other dimensions and evil Russians.

“Caroline Ledford,” she answers, smiling. “Thanks for your help.”

She walks toward the stairs. When she’s sure that the man at the desk is no longer keeping track of where she’s going, she cuts around the corner and heads toward the back. Her mother had gotten a speeding ticket once and had to come here, so she assumes that this will be where potential charges are kept.

Or however courthouses work. Nancy doesn’t know. She does know that she doesn’t want to get a job working here, though.

The room is suspiciously empty when she enters, although the lights are on. She tiptoes around the desk and studies the numerous piles of paperwork on it. When she catches yesterday’s date, she picks up that pile of papers and begins flipping through it until she reaches the date of Roger’s party.

Sure enough, there’s notes about the party there and information about the owners of the house and the man who filed the official complaint. In handwritten scrawl in the corner of the paper, the words ‘ _Plaintiff – not enough, motion to dismiss_ ’ appear in runny ink. Nancy smirks. Of course Roger would get away from this.

She carefully sets the papers back down and exits the room, heart pounding. All she did was look at a piece of paper, yet she feels like she’s done something incredibly forbidden, a secret only she knows about.

Nancy’s about to leave when she realizes she has to come from down the stairs so as not to seem suspicious. She takes a back stairwell up to the third floor and reads the directory outside of the elevator. Glen Wilson’s office is on her way toward the large, main staircase, so she figures she might as well stop by.

She’s about to knock on the slightly open door when she hears a voice say, “Damn you, Wilson, you said you could make this happen!”

Nancy pauses outside the door and looks around. There’s no one else in the hall. The right thing to do would be to keep walking and mind her own business, but…she’s still a high school girl. What can she say? She enjoys drama.

“Okay, first of all, I never promised that,” Glen replies nervously. Nancy chuckles to herself. Her dad didn’t have a problem with Glen, but he thought Glen was too indecisive and didn’t have much of a backbone. She’d always believed him to be too harsh on a distant cousin they rarely spoke to, but now hearing Glen, she has to agree with her father.

“Why did I ever waste my time talking with you?”

“I—sir, you’re the one who came to me for help,” Glen stammers. “I told you this summer, I’m not an attorney. I’m a paralegal. Plus, it’s really up to the constituents if you want—”

“Constituents!” the man laughs, though even from behind the door Nancy can tell there’s no glee to it. “Let me tell you something, Wilson, these constituents don’t have a say in this thing. If I want it, there’s only a few people I have to speak with to make it happen. I thought you were one of them.”

Glen audibly gulps. “I mean, I could be. I’ve done the paperwork, and I think you’ll be cleared by PD—”

“You think, or you know?” the man interrupts. “I mean, Jesus, Wilson, I’ve been on fucking house arrest for the last two months. I was finally able to leave yesterday. You’ll excuse me if I want answers now.”

“Yes, sir,” Glen answers obediently. “Um, well, to be honest with you, I’m confident the charges will be dropped. Or you’ll just have to pay a fine, do some community work, nothing insane. PD has been kind of a shit show since that Chief Hopper passed. They haven’t even chosen a new chief yet. PD is kind of the laughingstock of the city government.”

Nancy swallows at the mention of Hopper. She’d been upset about his death, obviously, but she hadn’t been able to show her grief too publicly. After all, no one knew how much time she actually spent with him fighting monsters.

“Okay. You keep me posted, now, Wilson,” the man says warningly, his voice growing louder as he nears the door. Nancy quickly hops away from the door and pretends to study a mural in the hallway depicting Indiana’s rich and riveting culture of limestone.

The man exits Glen’s office and walks out past Nancy to go down the stairs. She sneaks a look over her shoulder and furrows her eyebrows in surprise.

It’s Mayor Kline. Well, Ex-Mayor Kline.

Nancy’s mind is whirling. Hopper had said that Kline knew the Russians were involved with the scheme behind Starcourt. Was he trying to become mayor again to help the Russians, or because he actually wanted to lead the town of Hawkins again?

Nancy nonchalantly meanders down the stairs and exits the building, her breathing quickening. She’d thought senior year was going to be boring—no, she’d _hoped_ senior year was going to be boring and. She needed some boring in her life.

Kline is standing beside his car parked on the side of the road, and Nancy can see his ankle monitor barely peeking out under his khaki pants. She impulsively rushes around to the side of the building and fishes some coins out of her jean pocket and inserts them into the payphone attached to the brick wall.

“Wheeler residence, Mike speaking,” Mike’s bored voice is heard after a couple of rings. “How can I help you?”

“Hey, it’s me,” Nancy says hurriedly. “Listen, tell Mom I’m—”

“Nancy?”

Nancy bites her tongue in frustration. “Yes, dumbass. Nancy. Can you tell Mom I’m going to be home later and might miss d—”

“Where are you? You were supposed to drive me home from school today. I had to walk home!”

“I’m about to tell you, punk,” Nancy grumbles, closing her eyes. “Can you shut up and let me speak?”

“No! I’m mad at you.”

There’s a brief pause.

“Okay,” he concedes. “I’m not actually that mad. What were you saying?”

“I just saw Mayor Kline,” Nancy says quietly, cautiously looking around to make sure no one hears her. “I think he’s trying to get elected again or something. He’s at the courthouse right now.”

“What?” Mike shrieks, suddenly very interested in what she has to say. “He knew about the Russians! He can’t be mayor again! All that land he—”

“I know, I know,” Nancy cuts in. “I’m going to follow him, okay? Tell Mom I’m at someone’s studying or something. Make something up.”

Mike doesn’t answer for a moment. She’s afraid she didn’t put enough money in and is about to get another dime out of her pocket when he finally speaks.

“Okay, I’ll cover for you. Don’t worry,” Mike assures her. “But be careful, Nancy. Don’t do anything stupid. Lucas and Dustin are coming over after dinner, and if you’re not home by the time they are, we’re going to come looking for you.”

Nancy smiles to herself at her brother’s concern for her. “I’ll be alright. See you later.”

“Bye.”

She hangs up the phone as Mayor Kline is getting into his car and starting it. Nancy hurries over to her mom’s station wagon and hops in. She waits a minute before pulling out and following Kline’s car. She has a vague idea of where he lives, so she isn’t surprised when she ends up on the outskirts of town, miles away from her own house. The rich and powerful tend to want to be as far away as possible from everyone else.

She can see ahead of her that there’s a gate leading to a large house. She parks her car on the side of the road in the neighborhood they’re in, if it can even be called a neighborhood. It’s more like a couple of mansions in the same general vicinity.

“No turning back now, Nance,” Nancy mutters to herself.

After Kline’s car enters the gate and it closes behind him, she walks up to it from the side and manages to climb the shorter brick wall attached to the gate and hop out on the other side. Nancy swallows nervously. She’s done illegal and dangerous things before, but usually not alone. And usually not when the only person who knows what she’s doing is a fourteen-year-old kid.

Nancy is suddenly glad she decided to wear jeans and sneakers today and no makeup. She has to push through branches and tall grass near the gate and walks in the dirt beside the driveway so she’s not visible from the house. By the time she reaches the house, she’s sweating—whether it’s more from exertion or nerves, she’s not sure.

Nancy creeps around to the back of the house. Surely there has to be some sort of back door or window that she can find her way through, and then…

And then what?

Nancy’s breath suddenly leaves her, and she sits in the backyard for a moment, laughing to herself deliriously. What the hell is she doing here? What is she hoping to find? She’s not a detective. She’s an eighteen-year-old girl who has a lot of AP history homework to do and college applications to fill out and—

_Bang._

Nancy leaps to her feet, spinning around in slow circles, looking for the culprit of the noise. It sounded like something hitting a surface, hard.

The sun is starting to set, so it takes her eyes a couple of seconds to adjust, but she can faintly make out a shed near the trees further into the backyard. Nancy cautiously walks toward it, not daring to breath.

The shed slightly moves when another bang is heard. Nancy gulps. Her body moves on autopilot as she reaches forward to open the shed door.

When her vision adjusts to the darkness again, she nearly screams.

Laying in the shed, bruised and bloody but definitely very much alive, is Jim Hopper.

~

Nancy makes a mental note to be nicer to her parents when she gets home, because if she didn’t have practice lugging their drunk and stumbling selves up to bed after a date night, there’s no way she ever would have gotten Hopper to the backseat of the station wagon.

“Wheeler? What?” Hopper had muttered, his eyes barely focusing on her. He coughed once, a small, pathetic sound coming from someone Nancy had only seen as strong, and closed his eyes in pain. “Shit, my head hurts. Where the hell are we?”

“Mayor Kline’s backyard,” Nancy had answered. She knelt down, examining the chief. He wasn’t currently bleeding out, which was good, but he definitely had injuries that needed to be treated. “But we’re sure as hell not staying here. I snuck in behind him when I saw him downtown.”

“That’s…illegal,” Hopper muttered, wincing. He tenderly touched his left eye, which was bruised and almost swollen shut. “Where’s—”

“Come on, we’ll talk later,” Nancy whispered. “Right now we have to get out of here. Can you walk?”

He couldn’t, it turned out. He could hop on his right leg, which wasn’t injured, and Nancy bit her tongue to keep from making a joke about his name. Now was definitely _not_ the time.

By the time they reached the gate, Nancy’s shoulders were sore from supporting Hopper’s weight, but adrenaline and determination were coursing through her, and she wasn’t about to let a fucking gate stand in their way.

For the first time in months, Nancy feels alive—the paranoia, the chaos, the secrecy of this all—and she knows that she’d be safer if this wasn’t happening, but she can’t help it.

“I’m going to kneel down. Step on my back and boost yourself up,” she decides, raising an eyebrow when Hopper opens his mouth to protest. “I don’t see any other way. We can’t open the gate or else he’ll know we’re here. We have to climb over the bricks.”

She gets down onto her hands and knees and straightens her back, just like they taught her to in gymnastics that she quit when Barb no longer wanted to do it.

Hopper grabs onto the brick wall and places his uninjured, right leg onto Nancy’s back before hoisting himself up. Nancy winces in pain but says nothing. He’s heavy, but not as heavy as she was expecting—whatever had happened the last two months, she didn’t know, but she did know he wasn’t being fed properly.

She scrambles over the wall after him. They slowly make their way to the station wagon, and Nancy ushers Hopper in the backseat, praying that he doesn’t get any blood or dirt anywhere. She quickly starts the car and begins driving—to where, she doesn’t know.

She glances into her rearview mirror at Hopper. His eyes are closed, and he’s gripping his stomach in pain. He’s sweating and looks paler than he did when she found him in the shed.

“Shit,” Nancy whispers as she drives further into town and civilization. The first plaza that appears she pulls into and turns around to look at Hopper.

“I’m going to go down and get you some food and water,” she tells him. “Stay low. Don’t sit up. Just wait for me. I’ll be fast.”

She quickly exits the car. The first store she tries has its lights on, but the doors are locked. Nancy curses to herself and runs to the store beside it, squeezing her hands in triumph when the doors push open effortlessly.

She looks around. She hadn’t even been paying attention to what plaza or stores were here. She’s standing in the Family Video.

“Nancy! Hey! What’re you doing here?” Steve greets, waving to her. He opens his arm, gesturing to the whole store. “What move would you like to see? We’ve got them all.”

“We don’t, actually,” his coworker says. Nancy vaguely remembers him being in Steve’s grade in high school. “Only movies released before six months ago. We don’t have—”

“Come on, Keith, quit spoiling my fun,” Steve says, grinning. A phone in the back starts ringing, and Keith walks off to go tend to it.

Steve’s grin fades when he notices Nancy’s dirty clothes, rumpled hair, and terrified expression. “Whoa, Nancy, what’s wrong?”

“I…do you have food and water?” she asks, walking up to the desk, fiddling with her fingers.

Steve nods. He reaches down and puts two bottles of water on the counter and studies something that Nancy can’t see. “We’ve got…ah, some granola bars, some day-old popcorn, a couple of Twix bars—”

“I’ll take it all,” Nancy cuts in. She reaches into her pocket for any cash. “How much—”

“Hey, hey,” Steve interrupts, resting his hands on her shoulders. He stares into her eyes seriously. “Don’t worry about it. What the hell is going on?”

Nancy considers what to say. If she tells him, he’ll no doubt want to help, and she doesn’t want to put anyone in danger that doesn’t need to be.

“Something related to…” She glances at Keith, who’s still on the phone. “This summer. You know.”

Steve leans forward and lowers his voice. “Do you…do you need any help? Keith can close up tonight by himself. Family Video isn’t exactly the place to be on a Monday night.”

Nancy gives him a grateful smile as she gathers the food in her arms. “I’ll figure it out. Thank you, though. I don’t want you to get hurt if anything goes wrong.”

Without waiting for a response, she quickly jogs back to the car. Hopper’s eyes flutter open at her arrival.

Nancy wordlessly hands him a bottle of water and the snacks Steve had given. Hopper opens the bottle and chugs half of it, pausing to give her a grateful expression, before tearing open a granola bar and eating it in two bites. He then reaches into the bag of popcorn and begins shoveling it into his mouth. Nancy doesn’t say anything about the multiple kernels falling to the floor of her mother’s car and in between the seats, where it’s hard to clean.

“Someone’s coming,” Hopper suddenly says, his mouth full of food.

Nancy’s heart drops immediately. She has no weapons with her, Hopper is incapacitated, and no one knows—

“Hey! It’s just me!” Steve shouts at Nancy, who had opened her door and was ready to swipe someone with the car keys. “Calm down! I told Keith I’m leaving. What’s—” His voice trails off when he notices Hopper in the backseat, feasting on Twix bars, seemingly unbothered by Steve’s presence. “Oh my god. Is that…”

“Yeah,” Nancy breathes. “It’s a long story.” She gestures to the car. “Feel free to come along.”

Steve jogs around to slide into the front passenger seat. He turns around to stare at Hopper.

“So you’re not dead,” he says after a minute.

Hopper laughs humorlessly. “I am very much alive. In a hell of a lot of pain, with a sprained knee and what feels like a broken collarbone and probably a concussion and God knows how many bruises, but I’m alive.”

Steve and Nancy share a look, and Nancy knows they’re thinking the same thing. They can’t bring Hopper to the hospital because Hawkins thinks he’s dead and it would draw attention to them, but neither of them have professional medical experience.

Nancy starts the car. The gas light turns on, signaling that she’s only got about twenty miles to go before it’s going to stop running, and she groans. Of course this would happen now.

She drives to the nearest gas station. She turns the car off and rushes inside. She grabs the last few sandwiches out of the refrigerator and a couple of bottles of Coke and brings it up to the register, additionally adding money for gas.

When she comes back to the car, she tosses Steve the bag of food through the window and then begins pumping gas. Once it’s full, she climbs back in the car and looks at the two men expectantly.

“Well? What’s our plan?”

Steve glances back at Hopper. “Well, he said…he got put in Mayor Kline’s shed a couple of days ago? So we can’t go anywhere in Hawkins. Everyone knows him.”

“Yeah,” Nancy agrees, urging him on. She’s starting to panic being in such a public location.

“I want to see my daughter,” Hopper grunts in pain. “I’m not leaving Hawkins until I see her.”

Nancy and Steve glance at each other.

“Um, about that,” Nancy says slowly. “El moved in with the Byers. And…Joyce decided to move. They’re not in Hawkins anymore. They’re, like, three or four hours away now.”

She isn’t sure if Hopper heard her clearly, because he just shifts in the backseat again, tenderly massaging his swollen knee. “I want to see my daughter.”

Steve takes a deep breath and shrugs at Nancy. “I have the day off tomorrow.”

“I don’t,” Nancy whispers so Hopper won’t hear her. “I have school tomorrow! We can’t drive all the way to the Byers’!”

“Why not?” Steve whispers back. “He can see El, and Joyce can cover for you with your parents, and he can probably go to a hospital where they are because no one will know him. I think it’s our best bet.”

Frustrated, Nancy runs a hand through her hair, which had fallen out of its bun sometime when she was sneaking onto Mayor Kline’s property. She knows Steve is right. The best place for Hopper to be is outside of Hawkins, and the best people for him to be with are El and Joyce.

“Fine,” she sighs.

She turns around to Hopper, who has his eyes closed, and hopes he’s conscience enough to hear her. “Buckle up, Chief. We’re going on a road trip.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve didn’t have to be here, risking his life.
> 
> A voice in the back of Nancy’s head tells her she doesn’t need to be either, but she ignores it.

Normally, Hopper’s obnoxiously loud snoring would annoy Nancy, but it’s an indication that he’s still alive, so she doesn’t complain.

She yawns and then rolls her shoulders, sore from being in the same position for just over an hour now. She cracks her knuckles on the steering wheel and shakes her head, waking herself up. She’s still got almost three hours to go. The last thing they need is for her to fall asleep at the wheel.

Steve finishes off one of the sandwiches Nancy had bought and glances over at her when she yawns.

“I can drive, you know,” he offers. “We can split the drive in half. We’re not gonna get there until, like, eleven. Maybe even midnight if there’s traffic.”

“If there’s traffic in the middle of Indiana at midnight, I will personally pay for your next can of hairspray,” Nancy snorts. She gives him an appreciative smile. “But thanks. We can switch in like an hour. I didn’t think I’d be so tired, but...” She trails off.

“Crazy day,” Steve finishes, nodding. He gazes out the window. “Yeah, I get that.”

“God, I just...I thought the surprises were over,” Nancy says quietly, not wanting to wake Hopper up. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m glad he’s alive. But now there’s so much more going on. Kline knows he’s alive, obviously, and is keeping it a secret for...who knows why. And what exactly happened to Hopper? Where did they take him from the lab?”

Steve makes a noncommittal noise. “I got no answers for you. Only more questions.” He looks back to Nancy. “Dustin called me yesterday. Said something about Russians? I didn’t get the whole thing because he was late for his weekly phone call with Suzie, but...if you guys are in trouble, I want to help.”

Nancy risks taking her eyes off the road for a moment to look at him. Steve looks so earnest and genuine that she has to look away immediately. He may have done some shitty things in the past, but Steve Harrington is a good guy. Nancy is sure of it.

She’s also sure that he doesn’t deserve to be dragged into this mess.

“Some guy took a picture of me and Mike at our house and ran off,” she tells Steve. “And Dustin and I saw this bird acting really...well, weird. Birds are weird already, but this one was different. It looked like...” She takes a deep breath. “I don’t know. Something wasn’t right. Kind of like that deer that you almost hit the first week of school.”

Steve runs his hand over his face, obviously distressed. “Okay. So...what, we think the Russians or whoever kidnapped Hopper and beat him up are, what, using animals to spy on us?”

“I guess. I don’t really know,” Nancy answers uncertainly. “I mean, it could just be a coincidence. But...”

“Nothing’s ever a coincidence for us,” Steve finishes, angrily chuckling.

Nancy furrows her eyebrows and points at him. “No, _no_ , Steve. There is no ‘we’ or ‘us’ here. I’m the one that got my picture taken by some crazy dude, and I’m the one that found Hopper. This is on me. You just came along for this _one_ car ride because I’m better company than Keith.” She smirks when she’s done talking, letting Steve know that she’s not in a bad mood. But she is serious. She’s not putting anyone in danger who doesn’t need to be.

Steve gapes at her, displeased. “I’ve been with you in this since the very beginning, Nancy! I’ve almost _died_ because of this shit! We all have! I’m just as much a part of this as you are. I don’t care what you say.”

Nancy’s clenches her jaw, formulating what to rebuttal with. They’ve got three more hours in the car. If Steve wants to spend the whole ride arguing, so be it. He doesn’t have siblings; she does. She could argue all night.

Before she can say anything, Hopper moans and stretches in the backseat, waking up.

“I gotta piss,” he announces courteously.

Nancy and Steve give each other one more brief glare before Steve nods towards an exit sign, indicating restaurants and gas stations.

“We can stop at that McDonald’s,” he says. “My treat this time. And then we can switch driving. I’m okay to drive the rest of the way if you navigate.”

His tone suggests it’s more of an order than a suggestion, which makes Nancy _want_ to argue with him, but now that Hopper’s awake, she figures he’s suffered enough. He doesn’t need to be subjected to an argument that could end up being gladiatorial in nature.

Nancy silently takes the exit and pulls into the McDonald’s. There’s a young mother and her daughter sitting inside, but fortunately they don’t look up when Hopper stumbles in loudly, insisting he doesn’t need any help to walk.

Steve hands Nancy a couple of crumpled bills and nods toward Hopper, who’s slowly making his way toward the restrooms. “I’m gonna follow him in to make sure he doesn’t die for real.”

Nancy takes the money. “You want your usual?”

“Yes please,” Steve quips, giving her a quick grin, before jogging to grab Hopper before he knocks over a table.

Nancy lets out a huff of laughter. She can’t believe they were just fighting in the car like a couple of children.

She orders food for the three of them, assuming Hopper will be fine with a Big Mac and Coke, and leans against the wall. She gets the food before they’re out of the restroom and goes to wait in the car, sitting in the passenger seat.

Hopper and Steve join her a few minutes later. Hopper looks better; his skin isn’t pale anymore and he’s definitely more aware of his surroundings, but it doesn’t ease the tension in Nancy’s stomach.

Once Hopper and Steve are settled in the car, Nancy reaches into the brown bag in her lap. She hands Hopper his Big Mac and grabs the Coke bottle from the car floor and tosses it beside him.

“Thanks, kid,” he grunts, immediately devouring it.

Nancy then hands Steve his Big Mac. He takes it from her, raising an eyebrow. “No patty, extra pickles, right?”

Nancy rolls her eyes. “As if I could ever forget your insane order.”

Hopper leans forward from the backseat. “Harrington, you don’t get the _meat_ on your Big Mac?”

“Uh, no,” Steve answers, as if it should be obvious. “That shit, like, isn’t real meat. It’s bad for you.”

“We’re at a McDonald’s! It’s all bad for you.”

“I get vegetables on the bun!”

Nancy turns around to give Hopper an exasperated eye roll, indicating to drop it. She’d been flabbergasted by Steve’s order the first time he’d eaten it in front of her, but she’d grown accustomed to it.

Steve dramatically bites a huge mouthful off of his sandwich, flipping them off with his other hand. “Don’t make fun of me. I’ll drop you two on the side of the road and make you walk the rest of the way.”

“We’d probably get there faster than you,” Nancy teases. She motions toward the steering wheel. “Are you planning on driving anytime soon, or–”

“Okay, okay! Jeez! I’m going,” Steve exclaims. He backs out of the parking lot and merges back onto the highway. “Three hours to go. Nancy, does your mom have any mixtapes in here?”

~

It’s only after she’s rung the Byers’ doorbell that Nancy fully realizes Hopper is _alive_.

“Oh my god,” she murmurs, clutching her stomach, suddenly feeling sick.

She’d had to buy a new black dress for his funeral because the one she had worn to Barb’s was too short on her now, and the one she’d worn to Bob’s funeral had been her cousin’s she borrowed. Posters of Hopper had gone up all around Hawkins, commemorating its chief of police. News outlets from all over the state had been in and out of town for the rest of the summer, speculating what bad luck Hawkins had to have for its mayor to be arrested and its chief of police to die.

Hopper had _died_. Nancy thought she would never see him again.

And now he’s sitting in the backseat of her mother’s car, back from the dead. A stupid, selfish, horrible part of Nancy fleetingly thinks that it’s not fair that he gets to come back and no one else who died did—what if Barb isn’t really dead? What if she’s just trapped somewhere? What if she’s waiting for Nancy to—

“Nancy! Nance! Breathe, come on,” Steve frantically mutters, rubbing her shoulders.

Nancy’s vision focuses on him for a minute. Her ears are ringing and she feels dizzy and out of breath. Did she just have another panic attack? What is _with_ her lately?

“H-he was _dead_ ,” she shakily whispers. “We mourned him. And he’s back. Barb’s dead. We mourned her. And she’s not back.”

“Nancy, yo, focus on me,” Steve calls, snapping his fingers in front of her face. “Come on, we can’t lose you now. Someone’s coming to the door. I can hear footsteps.”

That alerts Nancy somewhat. She knows what Steve means. If she’s this distraught and messed up over Hopper being here, she can’t imagine what Joyce or El will feel like.

She pinches her wrist hard to focus.

The front door swings open, and Nancy watches Will sleepily lean against it and rub his eyes. He looks at Nancy and Steve and smiles nonchalantly. “Hey, Nancy. Hey, Steve.”

Then he suddenly straightens up, furrowing his eyebrows in concern. “Wait, _Nancy_? Steve? What the _hell_ are you guys doing here?” His voice raises in volume as he speaks.

Somewhere from in the house, Joyce’s muffled voice calls, “Quiet, Will! El’s asleep!”

A moment later, she adds, “And watch your language, young man!”

Will ushers Nancy and Steve inside, closing the door behind them. He pulls them into a quick, awkward group hug before taking a deep breath. “Sorry about them. But seriously, what are you guys doing here? It’s a Monday night.”

“I know,” Nancy says, wincing. “Sorry about barging in on you. I’m also going to have to call my mom to let her know where I am, by the way.”

“Wait, she doesn’t know you’re here?” Will asks, looking scared _for_ her. “Wow. I would not want to be you. Mrs. Wheeler can be—”

“Nancy? Steve?” Joyce gasps, walking into the foyer. She wraps her cardigan tightly around herself, her mouth open in shock. She blinks a couple of times. “I—it’s so good to see you guys! Come here!”

Nancy and Steve are pulled into another group hug with Joyce. She beckons them to the kitchen, and Nancy and Steve glance at each other. Hopper is in the car right now, alive, and Joyce is concerned about getting them something to drink.

“Ms. Byers—” Steve starts.

“Oh, just Joyce, come on now,” Joyce insists. “I think we’ve all been through enough together to be on a first-name basis, right?”

Steve grimaces. The four of them sit around the kitchen table, and Nancy takes a moment to look around. The Byers’ new kitchen is slightly larger than their old room, but it still invokes a sense of home and hearth that the Wheeler household had never quite mastered. Nancy feels comfortable sitting on the padded bench between the wall and table despite the circumstances that brought her here.

She glances at Steve. He raises his eyebrows at her, silently telling her to start talking, but she shakes her head, not knowing how to start. Steve has always been more charismatic than her, and she’s pretty sure Will likes him better.

“Okay, can you guys, like, talk out loud so that we can know what’s going on?” Will asks after a few seconds of Nancy and Steve going back and forth between facial expressions. “It’s almost eleven, and I have to get up at six-thirty, so—”

“Will! They just drove here all the way from Hawkins. Show a little respect,” Joyce chastises, lightly hitting her younger son on the arm.

“No, he’s fine. You’re right,” Nancy sighs, kicking Steve’s shin under the table. “It’s late. I’m so sorry about the time, but it was just a crazy day, and we didn’t have much time to prepare before coming here.”

“Prepare for what?” Will asks. He looks between Nancy and Steve suspiciously. “You guys didn’t hook up, right? Is that why you’re here? To tell Jonathan? Because—”

“Oh my god, _no_ ,” Nancy insists, eyes wide, matching Steve’s expression. “Nothing like that. I love Jonathan.” She tilts her head, somewhat offended. “You actually think I’d cheat on your brother?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Okay, fine, I’ll tell them.” He faces Joyce and Will, his expression deadly serious. “Okay. We’re about to tell you guys something, and it’s going to sound crazy. You probably won’t believe us. You’re definitely going to be confused. We were too. But just…don’t freak out, okay? You’re the first people we’re going to tell, so…”

Joyce straightens up in her seat, and Nancy admires the woman’s strength. Joyce looks prepared for anything, as if all the shit she’s already been through hasn’t dimmed her in the slightest.

“Hopper didn’t die over the summer,” Steve says quickly. “Nancy found him today, locked up at Mayor Kline’s place. She broke him out, and he’s out in the car now, but he was hurt pretty badly, and we can’t take him to a doctor in Hawkins. And he wanted to see El, so we figured here was the best place to come.”

It’s silent after he’s done speaking. Nancy doesn’t even risk swallowing. She watches Joyce and Will nervously, gauging their reactions. Will looks to his mom, as if he’ll react however she will. Joyce bites her lip for a minute, staring at the center of the table, before she takes a shaky breath and closes her eyes.

She doesn’t open them when she speaks. “Normally, I would scream at someone who tried to tell me that, because that is _seriously_ fucked up,” she says, her voice wavering. “But I trust you kids. And I know you wouldn’t drive all the way out here just for some prank.”

“We would never,” Nancy assures her, uncertainly resting her hand on Joyce’s shoulder. “I know it’s a lot to take in. I don’t think I’ve processed it myself, actually. But Hopper does need some medical help. Do you think we could somehow get him to see a doctor here?”

Joyce wordlessly nods, obviously still in shock. Nancy looks at Will.

“Yeah, the local hospital is just a fifteen minute drive from here,” he offers. “And Mom just started working there as a CNA, so that’ll help. She’s friends with one of the doctors there, if she’s working tonight.”

“Awesome. That’s good. Thanks, Will,” Nancy breathes. She looks at Steve. “Do you want to bring him in?”

Steve nods, getting up and jogging back outside.

Nancy studies Joyce again. Tears are streaming down her face, and Will leans forward in concern.

“I’m okay, baby. I’m okay. These are happy tears,” Joyce chuckles, bringing him in for a hug. She wraps her arms around him, resting her head on his shoulder. “I thought I lost you, and I got you back. I thought we lost Hopper, and now we’re getting him back. There aren’t going to be any sad tears tonight.”

When Steve walks in the room a few minutes later, Hopper using Steve as a crutch, Joyce lets out an ecstatic gasp and leaps up to hug him.

Hopper towers over her still, making her look smaller than she already is, but it doesn’t stop her from tugging him down to her. Hopper closes his eyes, wrapping his arms around Joyce, looking relieved. Tears form in the corner of his eyes and slowly start trickling down his face, and Joyce immediately bursts into tears, burying her face in his chest, her body wracking with sobs.

“I thought…I thought…you left me,” she whimpers, crying and laughing at the same time.

Their reunion is so intimate and emotional that Nancy feels as if she’s intruding on something meant for just the two of them. She’s surprised when she finds herself crying, too.

When the two adults finally pull apart, Will cautiously makes his way over to Hopper.

“Hi, Chief,” he says nervously, attempting to smile. “Didn’t think I’d see you again.”

“Me neither, kid. Come here,” Hopper chuckles, pulling him in for a hug. He releases him and then looks around. “Where’s my daughter?”

“She’s asleep,” Joyce answers. “I’ll go get her. I’ll be right back.” She turns and bounds up the stairs, taking two at a time.

In less than a minute, an excited screech is heard from upstairs, and El comes sprinting down, barreling full force at Hopper.

Nancy winces, knowing El probably just hit all of Hopper’s injuries, but he doesn’t seem to care at all. He picks her up off the ground, whispering something in her ear, and Nancy can’t hear him over El’s crying. When Hopper sets her down, she’s grinning widely, tears streaming down her face.

“Thought you were gone forever,” she sniffles, wiping her eyes. “Missed you. A lot.”

“I missed you more, kiddo,” Hopper whispers, a watery smile on his face. “I missed you so much. Thinking about you kept me alive, you know.”

“Thinking,” El echoes, nodding. “Feelings.”

Hopper chuckles. “Yeah. Feelings.”

“Happy feelings?” El asks him earnestly.

“Super happy feelings. Yeah,” Hopper assures her.

“I did what you asked,” El tells Hopper. “So you wouldn’t feel sad. Or mad.”

“What’s that?”

“I kept the door open three inches.”

Nancy’s about to ask what she means when Joyce enters the kitchen, their portable phone resting between her cheek and her shoulder.

“Hey, Dr. Gramling is going to be here in a few minutes. She can be trusted. She’ll patch you up, Hopper,” Joyce says. She listens on the phone for a minute. “Okay. Thank you so much, Sandy…I will. Got it. See you soon.”

She hangs up the phone and points to Steve and Will. “Guys, can you help me set up sheets in my room? I figure that’ll be the best spot, since it’s on the ground level…Will, go upstairs and get more pillows, and the first aid kit in the closet, and anything else we might need…”

Nancy’s about to offer to help also when Will rests a hand on her arm.

“Jonathan should be home soon. He was closing tonight,” he tells her. “We’ll take care of everything in here.”

She gives him a grateful smile. “Thanks, Will.”

Nancy leaves El and Hopper to catch up and goes outside to sit on the front stoop. There’s a slight breeze outside, but it feels good on her bare arms. She wraps them around herself and rocks back and forth, waiting for Jonathan, thinking about what the hell she’s going to say to him. She’s not sure if she’s just being dramatic, but it seems like they’ve been growing apart. And after seeing the way Hopper reunited with Joyce and El, she wonders if her reunion with Jonathan will be the same.

About ten minutes pass before a car finally pulls up in front of the house. Nancy squints her eyes at it. It’s not a car she recognizes; it’s a black Audi Sedan, not Jonathan’s LTD.

Panic washes over Nancy. Did the Russians follow her all the way here? She feels frozen to her spot, unable to move, unable to scream. She could get kidnapped right now, and no one inside the house would know.

But then Jonathan hops out of the backseat, says something to the driver, and starts jogging toward her, and suddenly everything is okay again.

“Nancy fucking Wheeler!” Jonathan croons, opening his arms wide.

Nancy lets out an awkward sound, a laugh that’s both strangled and relieved, but Jonathan doesn’t notice. She stands to meet him, and he wraps her in his arms.

Nancy closes her eyes, squeezing his torso as tightly as she can. She hasn’t seen him in two months, but it feels like it’s been an eternity. She forgot how comforting a simple hug from someone you love could be. In the Sahara of all the shit that’s been going down recently, Jonathan’s presence is an oasis.

“Jonathan fucking Byers,” Nancy giggles when they release each other. She grins up at him and runs her hand through his hair. “Is this _product_ in your hair?”

Even in the dark of the night, Nancy can clearly see his blush.

“It looks good,” she tells him.

“You look good,” Jonathan replies, and Nancy knows that’s false, because she’d been sweating profusely before entering his house, and she hasn’t brushed her hair since this morning, and she just spent four hours in the car, but he’s sweet for lying. “What are you doing here? When are you leaving? Can you hang out tonight? My coworkers and I are—”

“Um, I have something to tell you,” Nancy interrupts, grabbing his hand and playing with it. “It’s nothing bad, don’t worry, but it’s pretty serious. Steve and I drove all the way from Hawkins right after we found out. We just told your mom and Will and El.”

“Steve’s here?” Jonathan asks, looking toward the house. “Well, if it’s something serious, you guys could’ve called us. I wouldn’t have gone in to work today.”

“No, we couldn’t have,” Nancy sighs. “I didn’t want to risk anyone listening to our calls that…shouldn’t be listening to them.” She pointedly raises an eyebrow, and he catches on.

“Oh,” he says, trying to act natural. “So…what happened?”

Nancy knows the only people awake and around are his coworkers in the car, but she still feels the need to lean forward and lower her voice. “Hopper didn’t die. He’s alive. I found him at Mayor Kline’s and broke him out and brought him here.”

Jonathan stares at her for a moment. “What the fuck?”

“I know it sounds crazy,” Nancy whispers. “But it’s the truth. He’s inside right now if you want to go see him.”

Jonathan quickly presses a kiss to her forehead before running inside wordlessly. Nancy turns to face the car awkwardly, figuring it’s only polite to go and introduce herself.

A girl with short, buzzed blond hair is driving the car, and a boy with an earring is sitting in the front passenger seat. Another girl with straight brown hair is sitting in the backseat. They all stare at Nancy expectantly.

“Um, hi,” Nancy says cheerfully, playing with a loose string on her jeans. “I’m Nancy. You guys must be Jonathan’s coworkers.”

“Yeah, we all started at Art ’N Tech last month together,” the girl in the backseat says. She briefly smiles. “I’m Carley, that’s Mo, and that’s Jacoby. So, how do you know Jonathan?”

Nancy blinks. “Um…I’m his girlfriend. I’m from Hawkins. We go to school together…or, we used to.” An inner, insecure part of her is concerned Jonathan’s never mentioned her, but she assures herself that he might not be that close with them and hadn’t felt comfortable bringing her up.

“That’s cool,” the guy offers. “Well, we were all gonna go smoke if you want to join us.”

Nancy tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, feeling like she’s sixteen again, talking to Steve’s older friends who are all cooler than her. She hates it. Why is she letting herself get intimidated by people she’s just met?

“Oh, sounds fun, but a couple people from Hawkins came with me to see the Byers, so I should probably stay here,” Nancy says. She glances back toward the house, silently willing Jonathan to come back out. “Were you dropping Jonathan off before you went?”

“Nah, he parked at Art ’N Tech. He still has to get his car,” the driver, Mo apparently, answers. “We were stopping by here to get his bong. I forgot mine today, and Jonathan lives closer.”

“Right,” Nancy replies dryly. Since when does Jonathan own a bong? That doesn’t seem like the guy she knows.

He comes jogging out a minute later, said bong in hand, and Nancy watches as he tosses it in the backseat through the open window and says something to his coworkers. He grabs Nancy’s hand and pulls her back toward the house.

“Since when do you smoke and own a bong?” Nancy demands quietly. “And why didn’t they know about me? That was super awkward.”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” Jonathan tells her, bringing a hand up to her face and stroking her cheek. “I don’t know, we don’t really talk _that_ much about stuff other than work. I mean, we do, like movies and about school and stuff, but—”

“You talk enough to go smoke with them on a Monday night, though,” Nancy cuts in, crossing her arms. She knows and she hates that she’s seeming like a buzzkill girlfriend right now, but Hopper just came back from the dead, and she’s angry that Jonathan is acting like it’s no big deal.

“Look, I don’t want to now that Hopper’s back, but my mom thinks I should hang out with them so it doesn’t seem suspicious, in case…Russians…are following us, you know?” Jonathan says. “You should come with us. They’re super cool once you get to know them.”

Nancy shakes her head. “I should probably stay here. I want to know what’s going on with Hopper. I brought him here, so he’s partly my responsibility now.”

“Oh, okay,” Jonathan says. Nancy bites her tongue. Did he really expect that she would want to go smoke with his coworkers she just met? “Well, we’re going to go smoke. I won’t be long. Maybe an hour or so.”

“Okay,” Nancy says. She feels like crying. She hasn’t seen him in two months, and the only interaction she gets with him is a few minutes. “I guess I’ll…see you later, then. I love you.”

“I love you more,” Jonathan whispers, leaning in to kiss her.

His lips are slightly chapped but still warm and smooth, just like Nancy remembers. She breathes him in, relishing in the moment. She may be a little pissed at him, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t miss this.

Jonathan pulls away first, grins at her in the way that makes her heart flutter, and turns to walk to the Audi. He climbs in the car, waves at her, and then Mo drives off, leaving Nancy alone in the yard.

She sighs. _There are bigger issues at stake here than your love life, Wheeler_ , she chastises herself. _Like the fact that you haven’t called your mother yet_.

Will runs into the kitchen a few seconds after Nancy arrives there.

“Dr. Gramling’s working on Hopper now. She parked around the block and came through the back door,” Will informs her. He frantically opens a cabinet and pulls out a new pack of paper towels.

“Hey, can I use the phone to call my mom?” Nancy asks.

“Yeah! If Mike answers tell him hey!”

Nancy nods. She picks up the phone. Before she can begin entering in the numbers, something smacks against the window, vibrating it.

“What the hell?” Nancy exclaims, placing her free hand over her now racing heart. “What was that?”

“Shit,” Will breathes, looking just as spooked. His eyes are wide, and he cautiously creeps toward the window. “Do you think maybe someone saw Dr. Gramling sneak over here?”

“I don’t know, you’re the one who lives here,” Nancy whispers back. “Do you think your neighbors would sneak in your backyard?”

Will chews his lip thoughtfully. “Probably not. They’re kind of old. They’re probably sleeping right now.”

Nancy sets down the phone and walks over to Will, standing in front of him and placing her arm against his torso so she can push him back if anything happens. Joyce has already lost him once; she’ll be damned if the woman loses her son again.

A few seconds later, the window is hit again. This time, Nancy gets a clear view of the cause.

It’s a fucking _squirrel_.

“Oh, my god,” she mutters, letting out the breath she’d been holding. She rests her hands on her hips and inhales deeply before letting it out. “I for sure thought some Mindflayer type thing was going to burst through the wall.”

“Me too,” Will laughs shakily, obviously relieved. He leans against the counters, shaking his head. “I can’t believe we were scared of a _squirrel_. They’re all over the place here. It actually feels like they’re following me sometimes, with their beady little eyes.” He laughs at the thought.

Nancy tenses up. “Wait—”

“ _William Byers_! How long does it take to get some paper towels?” Joyce’s voice suddenly screeches from down the hall.

“Sorry! Coming, Mom!”

Will takes off running further into the house before Nancy can question him. Is she just being paranoid because of the insane day she’s had? Or is there some sort of connection between the deer, the bird, the squirrels…

She takes a deep breath, clearing her mind. None of that will even matter if she doesn’t speak to her mom; Karen Wheeler would kill her _for_ the Russians. Nancy prepares herself and dials her phone number, hoping someone picks up. It’s nearly midnight now. Her mother’s _really_ going to kill her if Nancy doesn’t get ahold of her until the morning.

Luckily, it picks up on the third ring.

“This is the Wheeler’s, Karen speaking.”

Nancy takes a deep breath. “Hi, Mom. It’s Nancy.”

She bites her lip, waiting for the inevitable yelling from her mother. There’s silence on the other end, and Nancy thinks for a fleeting moment that maybe Mike came up with the most amazing backstory, but she’s unfortunately proven wrong.

“ _Nancy Margaret Wheeler! Where the hell have you been? Your brother said you were studying!_ ”

Nancy scoffs to herself. Leave it to Mike to pick the most basic of excuses.

“I’m sorry, Mom. Things got a little crazy here,” Nancy says hurriedly before her mother can yell any more. “I had to come see the Byers. There was an accident. And I wasn’t near a phone, so I couldn’t call you to tell you, but things have just been really crazy and I don’t know what to do and I don’t know what’s going to happen–” Her voice breaks off and she starts crying, the magnitude and stress of the day catching up to her once again.

Mrs. Wheeler is silent for a minute.

“Well,” she says in a clipped tone, “I hope everything is okay over there. I would have appreciated a call next time, young lady. Don’t think just because there was an accident that you’re getting off scot-free.”

“I’m not. I won’t,” Nancy promises. “Don’t worry, next time–”

“Oh, there is not going to be a next time,” Mrs. Wheeler interrupts. “You come home tomorrow, do you understand me? You’re not missing school before a month has even gone by. You are _grounded_ for a month when you get back. No car. No TV. You come straight home after school every day. Do you understand me?”

Nancy makes a noise of protest. “Mom, what did you want me to _do_? I was the only one that could help!”

“Why? There wasn’t anyone else that could have helped? I appreciate that you’re trying to be helpful, Nancy, but excuse me if I don’t like the fact that my teenage daughter just up and left to drive four hours away without telling me.”

“Okay, okay. We’ll talk about it when I get home,” Nancy huffs, wanting the conversation to end before she gets even more frustrated. “Bye.” She hangs up the phone before her mother responds.

Nancy wipes her eyes and takes a few deep breaths, not wanting it to be obvious that she’d been crying. Today isn’t about her.

When she enters the living room, her heart swells at seeing Hopper, El, Joyce, and Will lined up beside each other on the couch. Not wanting to intrude, Nancy takes a seat on the carpeted floor in front of them.

They’re pretty much piled on top of one another, and Nancy absentmindedly fingers the worn fabric of the couch from her place on the floor. It’s strange, seeing a piece so familiar in a setting so new. It makes her feel like even more of an outsider.

She swallows thickly as Joyce lightly kisses Will’s forehead and casually slings an arm around El’s shoulders without looking, as if she’s done it a million times in just the span of two months. Nancy can’t remember the last time her family was all together in one room without fighting, let alone cuddling up to one another. It must have been before Holly was even born.

Steve catches Nancy’s eye. He’s sitting a few feet away from her on the floor, propped up against the coffee table. He tilts his head toward her, nonverbally asking if she’s alright. She gives him a small smile and nods, ignoring the growing hollow feeling in her chest.

“Was your mom super mad?” Will asks sympathetically.

“Uh, yeah,” Nancy sighs, giving him a reassuring smile. “It’ll be okay. I just told her there was an accident and I had to come here. We’ll talk about it when I get home.”

“I’ll call her tomorrow too and vouch for you,” Joyce tells Nancy, leaning forward to squeeze her hand. “I owe you a million on this one, Nancy.”

“Me too,” Hopper chimes, pointing at Nancy. “You’re my favorite Wheeler now.”

“As if I ever wasn’t,” Nancy retorts, smirking. She can’t believe she’s joking around with Hopper when twelve hours ago she’d believed him to be dead.

El turns to Hopper, a look of genuine concern on her face.

“You...don’t like Mike?” she questions.

Hopper chuckles, tousling her hair. “Of course I do, kid. Nancy’s just way better. Do you think Mike’s scrawny ass could have gotten me all the way here?”

Everyone giggles as Joyce frowns at him.

“No,” El answers seriously, the only kid not laughing. “Mike couldn’t have gotten you here.” She turns to Nancy and shyly smiles. “Thank you, Nancy. You are better than Mike.”

“Remind him that next time you talk to him,” Nancy tells her, winking. She looks around. “Did the doctor leave?”

“Yup,” Joyce answers. “She works a lot of…pro bono cases, you could call them. People without insurance, or citizenship, stuff like that. She’s used to just going to people’s houses and sneaking out right after.”

“That’s…really nice,” Nancy comments.

Joyce reaches across El to rub Hopper’s newly-braced knee. “Yeah, it is.”

Steve clears his throat. “Well, I never thought _I_ would be the buzzkill, but...I think we should talk about what we’re going to do about Kline.”

Nancy doesn’t miss the way Joyce clutches Will to her tighter at Steve’s words, as if the very mention of Kline could bring harm to her son. Which, judging by their past, wouldn’t be the craziest thing to ever happen.

Hopper gestures toward the brace on his knee. “Well, I think I’m down for the count for a little while. I’ll just lay low in my cabin for awhile, but when I’m better–”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Joyce exclaims, gaping at Hopper. “Back to your cabin? Are you crazy? They wanted us to think you were dead, Hopper. When they find out you’re missing, that’ll be the first place they check! You won’t be safe there!”

“You can stay here with us,” Will says enthusiastically. “Right, Mom? We’re far from Hawkins.”

“They’d probably check here next, bud,” Hopper sighs. “My daughter’s here. They have to know I’d want to come here.”

“And if we’re being watched, they’ll probably be watching you all too,” Nancy tells the Byers. “We need to find somewhere for Hopper to stay where he won’t be found, but we can still have close contact with him.”

Joyce’s eyes suddenly light up, and she turns to Hopper excitedly.

“No,” he says firmly before she can speak. “ _No_. I would rather take my chances at my cabin.”

“Don’t be so stubborn,” Joyce snaps. “We all care about you, Hopper. You have to do this. If not for yourself, for El.”

El innocently smiles up at Hopper.

Hopper grumbles under his breath, but it’s clear that he’s not going to argue anymore. Nancy raises her eyebrows in admiration at Joyce’s influence, and Will raises his eyebrows in confusion.

“Okay, so apparently I’m the only one in the room without any telepathy with someone here,” he says. “Where exactly are you thinking, Mom?”

Joyce is already pulling out a pen to scribble something on a notepad from the coffee table. “Sesser, Illinois,” she says, and Nancy’s heart drops. She can’t mean... “Murray’s warehouse.”

~  
Nancy fidgets in her...seat, she guesses she could call it. Technically, it’s two old computer monitors duct-taped together with, but it’s surprisingly supportive. She can’t really be surprised. It is Murray’s place; she knew what she was getting herself into.

“Goddamnit it, Bauman, I don’t need you to _move_ anything around for me. Just get me a sleeping bag and I’ll be fine.”

“Joyce was _adamant_ on the phone that I do exactly the opposite of that,” Murray bellows, struggling under the weight of the king-sized mattress resting on his back. He attempts to peer over it at Steve, who’s working on moving boxes and miscellaneous pieces of furniture to make room for the mattress. “Are you through, boy?”

“Uh, I think so?” Steve answers, looking around. “I pushed some stuff out of the way, but...there’s so much I don’t know if it made a difference.”

“Good enough for me,” Murray grunts, letting the mattress fall onto the floor.

Nancy flinches at the loud thud it makes. It barely fits in a space Steve had created on the floor, surrounded by numerous contraptions of Murray’s. The setup isn’t exactly the epitome of comfort, but it’s safe, so Nancy figures it’s as good as Hopper’s going to get.

“Thanks,” Hopper mutters begrudgingly.

“Okay. Well, if you’re all set, we should probably get going,” Nancy suggests. She doesn’t want to leave Hopper, but she definitely doesn’t want to stay at Murray’s. “We’ve still got to drive back to Hawkins.”

Murray stares at her for a minute, contemplating. Nancy shifts uncomfortably under his gaze. She knows he’s thinking about when she and Jonathan…spent the night together in his spare bedroom. She figures she should at least be a little angry at the man, for digging into their personal lives, but...technically, if he hadn't, she and Jonathan wouldn't have gotten together. God, did she have Murray to thank for her relationship?

Well, after what happened with Jonathan tonight, she's not too sure. She just hopes Murray doesn't mention anything to Steve or Hopper about her and Jonathan sleeping here. That'd be more than she could deal with at the moment.

“You’re not driving back to Hawkins tonight. It’s too far,” he finally says, and Nancy silently says a prayer of thanks. “Come on, I’ve still got some of that bottle of spirit you liked last time you were here! You can take my guest room and leave in the morning.”

Hopper and Steve both look at Nancy quizzically. Her face heats up, and she hopes that since it’s so late and dark they can’t tell.

“You have a _guest room_ and you’re making me sleep on a mattress in the middle of all your shit?” Hopper asks incredulously.

“Why, how unappreciative you are,” Murray comments, touching his chest. “Were the Russians more hospitable to you, Hopper? They gave you more than good food in your stomach, a mattress, heat, and indoor plumbing?”

Hopper goes quiet at that. His face pales, and he clenches his fists, staring at a point on the wall. Nancy guesses he’s remembering the conditions he was kept in, what happened to cause all his injuries, and she decides to change the subject.

“No, really, Hopper can take the guest room,” she insists. “Your place is between the Byers and Hawkins. We only have a couple hours’ drive now. We’ll split it and be back before sunrise. Thank you for the offer, though.” Her mother might not like the situation she’s in, but she’d be damn proud of her manners, that’s for sure.

Steve nods, looking like he wants to leave more than her. “Yeah. Thank you. We’ll probably come back this weekend to go over…everything. We know this is kind of fast. But it’ll look suspicious if we leave in the middle of the week.”

Nancy looks up at him, raising an eyebrow. They’d never discussed coming back over the weekend, and she sure as hell wasn’t planning on bringing him even if she was coming back. Steve didn’t have to be here, risking his life.

A voice in the back of Nancy’s head tells her she doesn’t need to be either, but she ignores it.

“Thanks, kids. For everything,” Hopper says genuinely. He surprises her when he pulls her in for a quick, albeit awkward, hug, and then shakes Steve’s hand. “I’ll make it up you, I swear.”

“You don’t have to—” Nancy starts, but Hopper’s stern expression silences her. “Okay, okay. Thanks. See you soon.”

“You remember the codewords for calling?” Murray asks them as he leads them out. “I want to make it very clear that I will not tell you anything if you don’t—”

“Dude, you told us them five times during the half hour that we were here,” Steve interrupts. “We got it. You can trust us.”

“I better be able to,” Murray mutters, so quietly Nancy barely hears him. Then, louder, he says, “Have a safe drive! Don’t tell anyone where I live!” And then shuts the door behind them, the multiple locks taking nearly a minute to click back into place.

Nancy and Steve silently make their way over to the car. Steve wordlessly holds out his hands for the keys, and Nancy gratefully places them in his palm before making her way over the passenger’s side. The day is catching up to her, and she feels fatigued and would like nothing more than to sleep for a whole day.

When they’re both seated and buckled, Steve reaches into the pocket of his pants. Nancy scrunches her nose. “What’s that?”

“I swiped a mixtape off of Murray’s table,” Steve says, grinning triumphantly, looking so proud of himself that Nancy can’t help but grin back. “Love your mom, but there’s only so much Hall & Oates I can take during one car ride. Her tapes were not going to cut it for the ride home.”

“Well, let’s see what Murray’s got,” Nancy agrees.

Steve pops in the tape. Light, classical music softly plays out of the speakers.

“Huh. Not exactly what I was expecting,” he comments. “I pegged him for a Foreigner guy.”

Nancy chuckles softly, leaning her head against the window. “I thought he’d like U2.”

Steve laughs, putting the car into drive and pulling out of Murray’s property.

Nancy checks the time. It’s nearly three in the morning now. Technically, they’ll be back in time for her to get ready to go to school in the morning, but the thought of doing that makes her want to cry. She knows she should go to school; she has reading to do, has to speak with Dr. Zimmerman, has to post flyers for the first NHS meeting, has to call Jonathan, she could work on college applications, could give Mike a ride to and from school—

Nancy could do a lot of things. But for now, she sleeps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, that was a long one. Thank you if you read this far!! This one wasn't super exciting in my opinion, but was necessary just to cover all the bases before a ton of action happens :) Let me know what you think!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Yeah, you’re all handling that news surprisingly well,” Nancy comments.
> 
> Mike waves his hand. “It’s fine. We’ve been through worse.”
> 
> Nancy rests her hand on his shoulder sadly. They’re fourteen-year-old kids, for goodness sake. They shouldn’t be so comfortable talking about life and death.
> 
> Hell, she’s _eighteen_ and she shouldn’t be so comfortable with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told myself it wouldn't take me a month to update, and here we are, exactly a month later...oops.

Nancy and Steve make it back to Hawkins before seven o’clock. Steve yawns from his new place in the passenger seat. “Breakfast? On me.”

“I don’t know, Steve. I should probably get home,” Nancy sighs, running a hand through her hair, which is in desperate need of a wash. “My mom is going to kill me.”

“So let’s get breakfast! Then you’ll be home after she’s left for work and you won’t have to worry about her until this afternoon.”

Nancy gives Steve a stern look, but the corners of her mouth are pulling up into a smile. “You’ve always been a bad influence, you know that, Harrington?”

She pulls off on the first exit right on the outskirts of Hawkins, where she’s confident they won’t see anyone they know at seven in the morning. She locates a small diner with a faded sign reading “Lulu’s” and pulls into a parking spot outside. There are only two other cars there, and not much else in the entire plaza. Nancy isn’t sure if it’s just her fried brain, but the whole setting almost feels like it’s not reality.

The two of them trudge inside and seat themselves at one of the booths. There’s an old man a few tables down, his back to them and reading the morning paper, but no one else. A middle-aged woman with a smile even more tired than theirs brings them out some water and coffee and hands them menus to look over before disappearing back behind the counter.

“What are you getting?” Steve asks, studying the menu.

“Probably just pancakes and eggs,” Nancy answers, not bothering to open the menu. Now that she’s in the vicinity of food, she just wants to eat as soon as possible. “You?”

“French toast and bacon,” Steve replies. He closes up his menu and holds his hand out for hers. “With a side of fruit.”

He gets up to go return their menus and tell the waitress their order so they don’t have to wait as long. While he’s gone, Nancy has a direct view of the newspaper that the old man is reading. Part of the title is cut off by his body, but she sees the words “break in” and “mayor,” and her stomach sinks.

She casually walks by the old man, but he turns the page at that exact moment, and she can no longer see the story. She keeps walking and goes to the bathroom. When she comes back out, she takes a deep breath for confidence, and cautiously approaches his table.

“Excuse me, sir. Would you mind if I took one of these pages off your hands for a few minutes? Just until my food comes,” Nancy asks politely, giving what she hopes is a genuine smile.

The man nods and lets her select the paper she wants. “Of course, dear. You know, it’s nice to see that some kids are still interested in what’s going on in the world.”

“Oh, definitely,” Nancy agrees, nodding overdramatically. She can see Steve out of the corner of her eye giving her an amused look. “I used to work at the Hawkins Post, actually.”

She thanks the man again and brings the paper over to her table. Steve raises an eyebrow at her. “What was that all about?”

Nancy silently reads over the story. It’s written by someone named Lillian Warden. Nancy doesn’t recognize the name, so Lillian must have started working at the Post after Nancy was there. The story is short and doesn’t have much traction to it; it just mentions a resident of the neighborhood in front of the mayor’s house saw two people, believed to be a male and a female, climbing over the fence from inside. The person wished to remain anonymous, and local police hadn’t found any evidence of a break in.

She turns the paper so Steve can read it. After doing so, he exhales. “Well, there’s not a ton of proof. You should be good for now, right?”

Nancy shrugs. “I guess. It’s just kind of unnerving. I mean, what if whoever saw us had gotten close enough to see Hopper?”

Before Steve can answer, the waitress brings out divine plates of breakfast food for them, and Nancy forgets about the article. All that matters right now is her short stack.

~

Nancy doesn’t bother being quiet when entering her house. By the time they’d eaten and after dropping Steve off at his house, it was already almost nine o’clock. Her family was all at school or work, so she had the house to herself for a few hours.

She’s about to make her way up the stairs to shower and sleep when she hears a noise coming from the basement. She tenses and frantically looks around for something she can use as a weapon. She grabs one of her mother’s steak knives from the kitchen counter, and slowly descends the stairs to the basement, hoping that she won’t have to use it.

She groans and slams her hand against the wall when she sees what caused the noise. “Damn it, why the hell are you here?”

Mike, Dustin, Lucas, and Max all freeze from where they’re sitting, looking at her with wide eyes like they’ve just been caught doing something they shouldn’t be.

“Nancy! What the hell happened? Why didn’t you call? I—wait, why do you have a knife?” Mike rambles, standing up and rushing over to her. She’s surprised when he pulls her into a quick hug and shakes her shoulders. “I was worried! Mom wouldn’t tell me what you said on the phone. But she was _pissed_ off.”

“Great,” Nancy says flatly, walking over to them and collapsing on the couch. She sets the knife down on the table. “Sorry. Just a little paranoid. Mom didn’t tell you anything?”

Mike shakes his head. “Nope. But I knew something bad had to have happened for you to be out all night. What happened?”

Nancy sighs. She sits up and tells them the whole story, from following the mayor from the courthouse to finding Hopper to going to Hawkins. She leaves out the details about her meet with Jonathan.

When she’s finished, the four freshmen are staring wide-eyed at her.

“That’s pretty badass, Nancy,” Dustin speaks first, his face erupting into a grin. “Holy shit! You kidnapped Hopper from the mayor and the Russians!” His grin immediately disappears. “Oh my god. You kidnapped Hopper from the mayor and the _Russians_. Do they know it was you? Are they after you?”

Max punches his arm, and he winces. “Shut up, dumbass.”

Lucas rolls his eyes at them. “I saw something about that in the paper this morning. That was you?” When Nancy nods, he shrugs. “Well, at least they don’t know who you are or that it was Hopper. I mean, the whole town would freak if they knew Hopper was alive.”

“Yeah, you’re all handling that news surprisingly well,” Nancy comments.

Mike waves his hand. “It’s fine. We’ve been through worse.”

Nancy rests her hand on his shoulder sadly. They’re fourteen-year-old kids, for goodness sake. They shouldn’t be so comfortable talking about life and death.

Hell, she’s _eighteen_ and she shouldn’t be so comfortable with it.

“So can we go back to Murray’s this weekend?” Dustin asks eagerly. “I want to see Hopper.”

“No,” Nancy says firmly. “The more visitors they have, the more danger they’re in. Plus, that’s putting _you_ in danger too. We don’t know if anyone followed us there. I mean, I don’t think they did, but…” She trails off, remembering the squirrel at the window of the Byers’ kitchen. “Just for now, stay in Hawkins, okay? I don’t have a good feeling about this.”

“Plus, how would we get there?” Lucas points out. “I mean, Nancy will probably be grounded for—” He gives her an apologetic look. “I just mean, the odds are kind of against us for this week. We should wait a bit more and have a good plan.”

The other three kids nod in agreement. Mike suggests they all go to school now and turns to ask his sister if she’s going also, but she’s already asleep on the couch.

“Should you wake her up? Nancy hates missing school,” Dustin asks.

“Nah,” Mike answers, pulling a blanket out of the basket by the couch and draping it over her. “I’ll let her get some rest now. When my mom gets home, she is _in_ for it.”

~

Nancy gapes at her mother. “Mom, it’s my _senior year_! I deserve some freedom!”

“I’m not locking you in this house forever, Nancy,” Karen sniffs, staring out the window, not making eye contact with her. “You’re free to do anything related to school. You can go to homecoming events, you can go to study groups. But you will not be going to any more parties or meeting any friends just for fun or using the car.”

Nancy angrily slams her fork onto her plate. “That’s ridiculous. I’m eighteen years old! I’m an adult! You can’t stop me from going out!”

“What exactly do you need to be doing unrelated to school?” Karen shoots back, still not looking Nancy in the eye. “You should be working on college applications and your studies, Nancy. Life only gets harder after high school. The next few years of your life depend on what you do this year. So there should be no reason for you to be going off to see Jonathan on a weekday, and especially not with Steve.”

Nancy can’t explain why, but tears are freely flowing down her cheeks now. She’s so frustrated, yet she knows her mother won’t listen to anything she has to say, so she bites her tongue for now. She’ll find a way around the new rules later, but for now, she wallows in anger.

She stands up, hands in fists by her sides and teeth clenched. “Can I be excused, please?” she grits out, desperately wanting to go upstairs so she can cry into her pillow.

For the first time this evening, Karen looks her daughter in the eyes. Her gaze is cold, and she looks so disappointed in Nancy that Nancy feels a _brief_ flash of shame.

“No, you may not,” she answers. “You’re putting the food up and doing the dishes.”

Nancy glares at her mother’s back as she retreats out of the dining room. Once she’s alone, Nancy collapses back into her chair and furiously rubs her eyes, unable to stop crying.

Hopper needs her help _now_. How is she supposed to help if her mother’s going to be policing her every move? Plus, she still needs to call Jonathan because she doesn’t like the way they left things, but now she apparently can’t.

Nancy bitterly chuckles to herself. She’s not sure why she’s so angry, actually. It’s not like she has an abundance of friends constantly asking her to hang out. She _does_ need to focus more on her schoolwork.

Mike cautiously creeps into the room. Nancy’s grateful that he doesn’t ask if she’s okay or mentions her tears.

“Come on, I’ll help with dishes,” he offers, nodding toward the kitchen sink.

The two of them clear the table and push in all the chairs before starting to wash everything. Nancy scrubs and rinses the dishes and hands them off to Mike to wipe with a towel and place on the drying rack on the counter. They work in silence until all of the dishes are washed and the kitchen is clean.

“Thanks,” Nancy sighs, leaning against the counter. She crosses her arms, wrapping her sweater tightly around her body. “Well, this blows.”

“Yeah,” Mike agrees. He’s uncharacteristically quiet for once.

“Do you think it was dumb?” Nancy asks him, biting her lip. “I mean...taking Hopper from the mayor’s house, bringing him all the way to the Byers’...”

Mike walks over to her and rests a hand on her shoulder. She‘s suddenly hyper-aware of how much her little brother has grown. He’s taller than her now, and actually has to look _down_ into her eyes when they’re this close.

“You did the right thing,” he assures her. “I mean, what the hell else could you have done? You handled it better than me or Dustin or Lucas or Max could’ve. We can’t drive – legally, I mean – and we wouldn’t have been able to get to El’s.” He pauses for a moment to clear his throat. “Uh, speaking of El, how is...is she–”

“She’s good. She misses you,” Nancy replies, smiling softly. “But she’s adjusting pretty well to the new school, and she was _so_ happy to see Hopper. It was really nice to see.”

“Good, good,” Mike breathes, tension obviously slipping from his shoulders at the confirmation that his girlfriend is okay. “And how’s Jonathan? I feel like transferring for your senior year would suck dick.”

Nancy rolls her eyes at his language before frowning. “Actually, I think he’s handling it pretty well. He got a job at some art store. He’s friends with his coworkers, at least. They were all hanging out when Steve and I got there.” She stops speaking for a moment, hesitating on whether or not to spill her insecurities to Mike. But she figures she really has no one else to tell, so he’s her best bet right now. “He only talked to me for a couple minutes, actually, because they closed and got home late. And then he left after saying hi to Hopper to go smoke with them. It was...weird.”

Mike frowns. “Oh. Um...really? That doesn’t seem like Jonathan. He’s, like, totally in love with you.”

“Yeah, I thought so too,” Nancy whispers, hating how her voice breaks. “I don’t know. It was just kind of shitty. I mean, if he drove all the way back here to Hawkins in the middle of the night, I would’ve cancelled whatever plans I had to spend as much time as I could with him. And I tell him details about my life. His coworkers didn’t even know he has a girlfriend.”

Mike is silent. Nancy isn’t sure if that makes her feel better or worse. She wasn’t expecting any life-altering, Socratic advice from him, but she’d appreciate him saying _something_.

“If you drive us over there,” he says finally, “I’m sure Dustin would be willing to go kick his ass with me. He’s been in love with you since, like, third grade.”

Nancy snorts and shakes her head. She and Mike make eye contact and then both burst out laughing. The stress of the last two days catches up to her, and suddenly she can’t stop the laughter from bubbling out of her. She clutches her stomach as she sinks to the floor, joyful tears in the corner of her eyes.

Mike is giggling loudly too – not as hard as Nancy, but enough that he has to lean against the wall further for more support.

Their mother comes stomping down the stairs moments later, wearing her pajamas and the angriest expression Nancy has seen on her face in a long time.

“Your sister is trying to sleep! I am getting ready for bed! You two need to go to your rooms. Now,” she seethes, crossing her arms, standing in the doorway of the kitchen.

Mike scrunches his nose. “It’s nine o’clock. I normally don’t go to bed until—”

“I didn’t ask for you to argue with me!” Karen interrupts, waving her finger at Mike. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “Just…go upstairs. Both of you. Now. You need to get up early to catch the bus. It’s supposed to rain so you’re not biking.”

Mike groans. “Can’t Dad drive us to school tomorrow?”

“No. We both have to go in early tomorrow. Go on. I’m not asking twice,” their mother replies, moving out of the way of the stairs so her children can squeeze by to get upstairs.

Nancy gives Mike an apologetic grimace, knowing he hates the bus. He shrugs understandingly before quietly closing his bedroom door behind him.

Nancy follows suit, locking herself in her bedroom before her mother can yell at her any more. She sits down at her desk and stares at the pile of textbooks and papers in front of her. Roger had taken it upon himself to get some of the work she’d missed and given it to Mike at school so she could have it.

She takes a deep breath, ties her hair up into a ponytail, grabs her pencil, and opens up her history textbook. Nancy Wheeler has never gotten anything below an A in any of her classes. She’s not about to start now.

~

“Colleges really don’t give a damn – pardon my language – if a senior skips one day. Hell, they won’t even get wind of that. It’s perfectly normal, Nancy,” Mr. Brenner assures Nancy, leaning back in his chair at his desk.

“I’m not necessarily concerned about that. I just…I feel like my work ethic is slipping,” Nancy admits, sighing. “And if it is, I think Chicago might be too competitive for me. You know? If I can’t even handle high school—”

“Nancy, trust me. You’re handling high school just fine,” Mr. Brenner interrupts, giving her a small smile. “Some of the faculty were talking in the break room about your last NHS meeting. They all agreed you’re going places. I think one of those places could be U of Chicago. All you have to do is _prove_ that to the admissions board. And you don’t need to do it alone. I know when we met earlier and I tried…ah…asking about your old boss, that that won’t be an option, but do you have any other ideas for letters of recommendation?”

Nancy chews on her lip. “I mean, yeah. Just teachers, though. I thought it would be better to have some from someone who’s never had me in class before.”

Mr. Brenner looks at her thoughtfully. “I’ve never had you in class before,” he says.

Nancy furrows her eyebrows. “I…you would write me a letter of recommendation? You haven’t even known me for that long. Plus all I do is come in your classroom and bombard you with questions.”

Mr. Brenner chuckles, shaking his head. “Nancy, you’re one of very few students at this school who I can see that truly cares about where they want to end up in life. I mean, what high school senior wants to spend lunch in a teacher’s classroom rather than sit outside with their friends? You’ve shown heart and dedication and refreshing authenticity to me. I’d be happy to write you a letter of recommendation.”

Nancy doesn’t mention that part of the reason she spends lunch in his classroom is because she doesn’t have that many friends at school left. She definitely doesn’t mention that Mr. Brenner has provided her with more encouragement and assistance in planning for college than her own parents have this semester.

“Thank you so much. Really. You have no idea how much that means,” Nancy tells him earnestly. “Do you want me to bring in my resume tomorrow?”

Mr. Brenner swivels his chair to look at his calendar on the wall. “Actually, I have a meeting tomorrow during lunch with the department, and then I’ll be out Friday and Monday for a conference this weekend in DC. I can look at it on my flight, though. Could you drop it off to me tonight or tomorrow before school?”

Nancy contemplates her options. The school bus is frequently late, barely getting students to school on time, so she knows she probably won’t have time to give it to him in the morning. She doesn’t have a car to drop it off to his house, but she’s sure she can convince her mother to drive her, or if worse comes to worse, get Mike to bring it over.

“Uh, yeah, I can drop it off tonight,” Nancy says. “What’s your address?”

He scribbles it down on a piece of notebook paper and hands it to her just as the bell rings. “Feel free to just drop it off in the mailbox if I’m not there. I’ll work on a letter this weekend, and then Tuesday you can look it over. Sound good?”

“Perfect,” Nancy says, grinning. “Thanks so much, Mr. Brenner. Good luck at the conference!”

She exits his classroom and heads to the library to catch up on more work. The more she thinks about it, the more she realizes that Mr. Brenner was right; missing one day of school really wasn’t so bad. None of her teachers so far had asked her where she’d been, and her grades wouldn’t be affected at all.

At the end of the day, Nancy hastily tugs on her rain jacket and rushes to the bus loop. Not many seniors take the bus; they either drive, walk, or catch rides with friends, so Nancy has to get there early so she doesn’t get stuck in the back of the bus with all the rowdy freshmen and sophomores.

She climbs onto the bus and selects a seat in the fourth row, near the front. She puts her backpack next to her so no one will sit next to her.

Naturally, a freshman tries to be funny and slides in on the same seat, squishing her backpack in between them. “Hey, babe,” he says coolly, nodding toward her and smirking.

Nancy rolls her eyes. “Keep it moving, Carcetti. I know your mom,” she deadpans.

His face pales and he ducks out, shuffling toward the back of the bus.

Nancy manages to keep anyone from sitting with her for the duration of the bus ride home. She briefly wonders if that’s part of the reason she doesn’t have many friends anymore – if she appeared friendlier, would more people talk to her? She self-consciously moves her backpack onto her lap, leaving space for someone to sit there, but figures no one’s going to move seats when they’re going home.

Once she exits the bus and enters her house, she rushes upstairs to grab her notebook with all of her school and work accomplishments, and goes into her father’s study to use his computer. He doesn’t like her using it because it was expensive and no one else in the neighborhood has one, so it’s not to be treated “like a toy,” but Nancy hasn’t been listening to him much lately.

She begins typing and formatting her resume, appreciating the ease the computer brings. This computer is much nicer than the H89s the school uses, and less than an hour, she has her finished product.

She vaguely hears Holly at one point getting a snack from the kitchen, but she can’t be bothered to go greet her. She’s proud of the resume staring back at her from the computer screen.

Nancy wants to print it before her father comes home, but she doesn’t know how to, so she dejectedly sits in his office until he comes home. When he finally does, he pauses in the doorway of his office.

“How many times have I told you to ask me first before coming in here?” he demands, setting down his briefcase and crossing his arms. “Christ, Nancy, that thing is not a toy. Do you know how much money that cost me? I—”

“I need to print out my resume so a teacher at school can write me a letter of recommendation for college,” Nancy interrupts, rolling her eyes. “I don’t know how to set up the printer. Once it’s printed, I won’t get on it again, I promise.”

Her father crosses the room to lean down over the computer, studying what she’s typed. He taps the keyboard a few times, altering certain words and adding some phrases. He reformats her heading and stands back, nodding when he’s finished.

Nancy gives him a surprised, appreciative look. “Thanks.”

Her father grunts in response, hits a few buttons on the computer and the printer beside in, and a few seconds later, Nancy’s resume is printed.

She admires it in her hands, relishing in the clear appearance of the ink on the clean paper. She begrudgingly admits to herself that the changes her father had made have helped.

“I need to drop this off to my teacher’s house because he won’t be able to meet the rest of this week,” Nancy tells him. “Can you drive me there?”

“Your mother and I are meeting some of our friends for dinner and drinks later,” Ted responds. “I have to make a few calls before then and she doesn’t get off until five today. Sorry, Nancy.”

Nancy sighs. “Can I use the car now before Mom gets home? I’ll be back in, like, twenty minutes.”

Her father studies her for a moment. Nancy’s sure that her mother ranted to him about her adventure with Steve, but he hasn’t actually acknowledged it to her, so she can’t be totally certain. Eventually, he sighs and fishes out his car keys from his jacket pocket.

“You better be back before your mother gets home, or I’m telling her that you stole them while I was in the shower,” he says. His tone is stern, but his eyes are twinkling with something like mischief, and Nancy thinks that maybe, just maybe, she’d miscalculated her father.

“Thanks, Dad,” she says brightly. She grabs an empty envelope from his desk and carefully slides her resume into it before putting the envelope in her backpack. She opens the garage door and is about to get into the car when a truck pulls up in front of her house, and Mike hops out of it, running toward her. The truck waits until he’s inside the garage before pulling off.

“Max’s mom. They saw me walking home since I missed the bus and dropped me off,” he explains, running a hand through his wet hair. “Jesus, it’s raining hard. Where are you going? I thought you couldn’t drive.”

“Dad said I could drop my resume off at my teacher’s house as long as I’m home before Mom,” Nancy says.

Mike raises his eyebrows, impressed. “That doesn’t sound like Dad.”

“I know, right?” Nancy agrees, not quite believing it herself. “You want to come? It shouldn’t take long.”

“I would, but Dustin and Lucas are coming over soon. Have fun, though,” Mike tells her, heading inside the house.

Nancy starts up the car and drives to Mr. Brenner’s house. When she arrives, she pulls up to his mailbox and is about to reach out the window to stick her resume in when the front door opens, and Mr. Brenner waves to her.

“Hey, Nancy! Can you come up here and bring it in? I don’t want to have to walk down to the mailbox in this rain.”

“Sure,” Nancy calls back. She checks the car clock. 4:36. She’s still got time.

She pulls her hood up and sprints up to the front door, thanking Mr. Brenner for holding the door for her. She hands him the envelope and awkwardly looks around. She’s never been to one of her teacher’s houses before, excluding her fourth grade teacher who was also one of her friend’s moms.

Mr. Brenner waves at the small house, which has boxes piled to the ceiling and an array of clutter around. “Sorry about the mess. The previous owner left a bunch of stuff that I still haven’t sorted through, and I’ve never been big into decorating myself.”

“No, you’re fine,” Nancy tells him. She shoves her hands into her jacket pockets. “Um, it smells good.”

“Oh! Yeah, I made some cookies, just something for me to snack on at the airport tomorrow. You want some? I won’t keep you long, but I shouldn’t eat two dozen cookies by myself,” Mr. Brenner offers, turning to the corner to walk toward the kitchen.

Nancy hesitantly follows him. It took her about ten minutes to drive over, and she wants to be home before five just in case her mother gets off a little early because of the weather.

There are also boxes and containers of miscellaneous items in the kitchen. Mr. Brenner points toward a baking sheet resting on the stove, with delicious-looking snickerdoodles cooling. He opens a few cabinets, muttering to himself.

“I have some Ziploc bags somewhere. Let me check the closet. Be right back,” he says, walking off. “If you see anything you want in any of the boxes that aren’t mine, honestly, take them. I’ve been meaning to drop them off at Goodwill but haven’t had the time yet.”

Nancy meanders around the kitchen, casually looking inside some of the boxes. One of them is filled entirely with pink floral antique dishes, which she’d confidently say aren’t Mr. Brenner’s.

One of the boxes has a few clothes spilling out from the top. Nancy opens up the box to rearrange it and look through them.

One of the articles of clothing inside makes her heart stop. She slowly, shakily, pulls it out to examine it closer. It’s a blue, nylon jacket with a quilted patterned back, and Nancy would recognize it anywhere.

She swallows hard and reaches for the tag. She prays that she’s wrong, she _has_ to be wrong—

Written on the tag in Sharpie is _BH_. Nancy drops the jacket like it’s burned her. This is— _was—_ Barb’s jacket. The one she’d been wearing when she was killed.

Nancy’s heart rate increases, and her breathing quickens. In the back of her mind, she know she can’t afford to freak out now; she has to get home so her mother won’t yell at her and punish her even more, and if Mr. Brenner knows anything about this, he’s dangerous, and she can’t be left here alone.

She stuffs the jacket into her backpack and calls out to Mr. Brenner, her voice shaky.

“Hey, Mr. Brenner, my mom wants me home before five, so I actually have to go. But thank you so much! Have a good conference!” she calls out. Without waiting for a response, she runs outside and back to her car, and speeds home.

She barely remembers the car ride there. She isn’t sure if she stopped at any stop signs. When she pulls into the garage, she quickly turns the car off and goes to her father’s study to toss the car keys on his desk, before heading down to the basement.

Nancy can hear Mike, Dustin, and Lucas laughing about something. It makes her pause halfway down the stairs. Does she want to ruin their afternoon by showing Barb’s jacket to them?

She know she would be pissed if Mike found something like this and didn’t share it with her. She figures the feeling is mutual, so she continues down.

“Hey, Nancy,” Lucas greets, sliding over on the couch so she can sit next to him. Mike and Dustin wave at her from their places on the floor.

“Hi,” she says shortly, gripping her backpack tightly. “I have some…news. Not sure if it’s good or bad.”

“About Hopper?” Dustin asks. He excitedly pulls out some documents from his backpack. “We were doing research during lunch today, and we found some potential leads from—”

Nancy shushes him and pulls out Barb’s jacket from her backpack. She can’t bear to hold it for more than a second, so she throws it onto the coffee table, so all three boys can look at it.

“Um…nice jacket?” Dustin says, obviously uncertain on why it’s there. “A bit outdated, if you ask me, but—”

“Holy shit,” Mike breathes, recognizing it. He looks at Nancy with wide eyes. “Is that…Barb’s jacket?”

Nancy nods. Lucas and Dustin both stare at the jacket in shock, the realization dawning on them.

“I went to Mr. Brenner’s to drop off my resume,” Nancy explains. “He said there were a bunch of boxes from the previous owners. This was in one of them.”

“Well, that all but confirms it, then,” Mike says. “Mr. Brenner _is_ in on all this evil shit with Dr. Brenner. He probably knows all about the lab and the experiments. He’s probably got some grand plan to lure us all in.”

Nancy can’t even argue now. She’d thought Mike was being paranoid when they first met Mr. Brenner, but now she agrees with him.

“We need to call the Byers,” Mike says. He grabs the basement phone and dials the number, and Nancy is still in too much shock to argue with him.

“Ms. Byers! Hi! It’s Mike,” Mike says into the phone a few seconds later. “Yeah, I’m good…yeah, she told me everything, pretty much. It’s all crazy…mmhmm…” After a minute of Joyce speaking, Mike clears his throat. “Well, I hate to bring up more crazy news, but Nancy found Barb’s jacket at one of her teacher’s houses. His name is Mr. Brenner, and we’re pretty certain that his brother is Dr. Brenner, the one who worked at the lab where El—” He pauses so Joyce can speak, and Nancy can only imagine what she’s saying. “Oh my god. Is he okay?”

At that, Lucas, Nancy, and Dustin all lean forward, trying to hear what Joyce is saying. Mike gives them an annoyed look and waves them back as he continues talking to Joyce.

“Okay…yeah, definitely. Tell El I say hi…you too. Okay, bye,” he says.

“What the fuck did she say? Is who okay?” Dustin shrieks, punching Mike in the arm.

“Jeez, dude! Calm down!” Mike grunts, rubbing his arm. “She said that Will…tried to go over to some squirrel in the yard, or something, it’d been bothering him at the window or something? And…she’s not really sure what happened, but Will passed out. She said he’s breathing now, and he’s woken up a few times, but it was just…weird.”

Dustin looks at Nancy. “Like…the squirrel at—”

“Yeah,” Nancy breathes, remembering what Will had told her about the squirrel. She shares this with the boys. “I think something’s up with some of the animals. I mean, that deer, the squirrels now…”

“The Mind Flayer was able to possess people. There’s no reason why it wouldn’t be able to do the same with animals,” Lucas points out. “And if the Russians can control where these animals go and who they follow…”

“The same thing happened with rats. Jonathan and I saw it,” Nancy says. “But…the animals now seem more intelligent. I don’t know.”

“Well, the only way to know for sure is to track one, I guess,” Dustin suggests. “I mean, for us. We could get Hopper and Will and El—”

“Let’s not put them in any more danger just yet,” Nancy interrupts. “How do you suggest we track one of these animals? We’re not even sure which ones are…you know. Possessed.”

“Well, they sure as hell know who we are, clearly,” Mike says bitterly. “If we all just get together and talk about this out in the open, I’m sure they’ll come to us.”

“But where should we do it?” Lucas asks. “I mean, I don’t know about y’all, but if we’re confronting these fuckers, I’m gonna want a weapon. And we can’t exactly bring all that to school or one of our houses.”

“You’re right,” Nancy says, absentmindedly running her fingers along the arm of Barb’s jacket. “We have to go somewhere where no one will see us, and no one will care what happens there.”

“We could try the soccer fields in my neighborhood. They’re covered by the woods on one side, and no one really goes there at night now since it’s not soccer season,” Dustin suggests.

“Yeah, but it’s in the middle of a neighborhood. I bet this isn’t going to happen quietly,” Mike counters.

“It’s not,” Nancy sighs, shaking her head. She squares her shoulders and looks at her brother. “We have to go back to the lab.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed!! I wanted to include the action of their plan in this chapter, but felt it would've been too long. Plus, that story is a different vibe than most of this chapter, I feel like. If you made it this far, thank you so much for reading! I'll be back with another update as soon as I can.


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